Epitaph
by August08
Summary: A living nightmare returns from the grave to haunt our heroic heroes once again...Only this time they might not wake in time to save themselves. Their fate lies in the hands of one of their own. Conclusion to Stone Cold series.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: I cannot take credit for this story. The idea for this story comes from my wonderful beta-reader, Amonraphoenix. I am merely trying to do justice to the brilliant idea. So, thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Turtles, only OCs.

* * *

It was a cool, crisp evening in New York City. The chill in the air told the inhabitants that winter had yet to release its icy grip on them. However, the cool air was not enough to keep the city's four, silent protectors from patrolling the vast metropolis.

With April and Casey gone on vacation, and Splinter in Japan visiting the Ancient One, the four brothers had extra time on their hands; or at least they would have, if Leonardo had not pushed them to constantly practice their katas during the day, and run patrols during the evening. Of course these exercises gave them a chance to get their minds off of the events of the last few months. In fact, this was one of the main reasons why April and Casey had decided to go on vacation, to get Casey away from the city for a while.

It had taken a little over three months for the brothers to begin to relax. Raphael continued to assure them that there was no way the Grim Reaper was ever coming back; he made sure of it. So, life had finally returned to the way it had been; undisturbed and mostly uneventful.

The brothers slowed their quick pace during their patrol and took a few moments to survey the surrounding area.

Michelangelo took a deep breath, taking in the cool air. He glanced over at Leonardo and his contentment faded when he saw the pained expression on his eldest brother's face. Leonardo was still recovering from serious burns after jumping through the funeral pyre to save Michelangelo's life. Of course his older brother had no way of knowing that he was still alive, only a small movement giving Leonardo hope that he was not dead, and Leonardo was not going to stand back and watch Michelangelo slowly burn to death if he was alive. Michelangelo had forgiven his brothers for that incident; after all, they had thought he was dead at the time.

Donatello walked up to Leonardo and placed a hand gently on his brother's scarred shoulder. "You okay, Leo?" he asked in concern.

Leonardo nodded stiffly, trying to erase the pain from his expressions. "I'm fine," he replied curtly, his voice slightly strained.

"Liar," Raphael stated bluntly.

Leonardo cringed inwardly and closed his eyes. He sighed in semi-defeat and turned to look at Raphael. "Must you always do that?" he asked, his voice resigned.

Raphael simply shrugged. "Ya don't have to hide it, Leo. If you need a break, just say so," Raphael growled, crossing his arms over his chest in irritation.

Leonardo felt a stab lance directly through his pride. "I'm not weak," he pointed out angrily.

"Didn't say that you were," Raphael countered. "You jumped into a fire, Bro, don't forget that." Raphael pointed out reasonably.

"Raph's right, Leo," Donatello spoke up. "You're still healing. I'm surprised you've managed to stay alert and keep up for this long."

Leonardo felt another stab to his pride. "Okay, I get it." He snapped defensively.

Michelangelo grinned and walked over to his brother, throwing an arm carefully around Leonardo's shoulders, while being mindful of the still healing burns and tender new skin. "I don't care what they say, Leo, you'll always be my hero," he said, trying to diffuse the tense situation.

Leonardo couldn't help but grin broadly at that. "Hero, huh?" he thoughtfully asked.

Michelangelo nodded. "Forget Man of Steel, Dude, you're Turtle of Steel."

Raphael snorted. "Some Turtle of Steel," he commented, although a bit of light-hearted teasing could be heard in his voice.

Michelangelo stuck his tongue out at his red masked brother. "You're just jealous 'cause Leo was the one who saved yours truly and not you."

Raphael shook his head, but didn't say anything. Leonardo chuckled lightly and pushed Michelangelo's arm off his shoulder. He walked to the edge of the roof and looked down at the street far below. Everything was quiet, save for the roar of cars going back and forth on the roads. He turned around and wrapped an arm around his stomach as pain began to radiate across his abdomen and legs. He raised a hand when Donatello took a worried step towards him.

"I'm fine, Donny, really," Leonardo insisted. He took a deep, calming breath and slowly let it out. "Well, there's nothing going on tonight, we might as well call it a night and head home."

Raphael turned to face the leader. "We've only covered a few blocks," he protested.

Donatello cast a pointed, disapproving look at his sai wielding brother. "A few blocks are more than enough for Leo right now, Raph," he hissed.

"Oh, right, I keep forgetting," Raphael said, his anger suddenly skyrocketing. "Fearless can only do a few blocks at a time." Raphael's face fell into irritated lines. The last thing he wanted to do was go home and be bored to tears. He was itching for some action. "Fine, Leo can go home and get better, the rest of us can keep going."

Leonardo's body tensed, which sent renewed waves of pain shooting through every nerve in his body, but he never let his discomfort show on his face. "My health has little to do with us going home, Raphael. We're heading back because it is quiet, nothing is happening, and we have practice early tomorrow morning."

Raphael ground his teeth together, hating that his brother couldn't just admit that his injuries were bothering him. He stomped over to Leonardo and stopped mere inches from his brother's beak.

"That's if you can even manage to get out of bed tomorrow," he growled.

"What does _that_ mean?" Leonardo asked, his eyes narrowing as his own anger flared slightly.

"Well, we wouldn't want poor Leonardo to hurt himself further, now would we?" Raphael taunted.

Michelangelo and Donatello looked at each other in confusion. "Raph, what's gotten into you?" Donatello hissed in worry.

"Yeah, Dude, you were fine a minute ago," Michelangelo put in.

"He just wants to stir up trouble, as usual," Leonardo answered, not taking his eyes off of his hot headed brother whose jaw was clenched tightly, his eyes narrowed dangerously into angry slits of golden fury.

Raphael shot out an angry breath through his nostrils. "You're just too weak to go any further," he snarled, his hands going to his sais.

"Nothing is happening," Leonardo repeated in a stern voice, but one hand twitched towards his swords. "Now, back off before I make you," he threatened.

Raphael laughed darkly. "I'd like to see you try, Fearless Leader," he taunted mockingly.

"Don't make me, hot-head," Leonardo spat back, taking a defensive position and unsheathing one of his katana blades.

Raphael pulled out his sais and gave a derisive snort. "I'll go through you if I have to."

"Raph, stop it," Donatello ordered.

"Come on, Leo, just walk away," Michelangelo instructed. "It's not worth it."

Leonardo slowly dropped his guard and made his way over to where Donatello and Michelangelo were. There was a thud as metal hit the hard keratin of his carapace. Leonardo swung around, his eyes narrowed with dangerous anger.

"Go on, start a fight," he snarled, his voice low. "I dare you."

"No doubt, of whom the winner will be," Raphael mocked again.

Michelangelo hurried forward and grabbed Leonardo's arm. "Come on, Leo, leave him," he urged. "Let's go home and play a few rounds of Battle Ravage before going to bed," he coaxed hopefully.

Leonardo pulled his arm out of his baby brother's grip, and turned to face Raphael. "No, Mikey. Raph needs to learn the respect lesson… yet again."

Raphael scoffed and readied himself for a fight. "You have to show respect to get respect, Fearless."

"That's rich, coming from you," Leonardo snapped.

There was suddenly a flash of red, and the clash of metal against metal.

Michelangelo yelped and fell back as Leonardo and Raphael clashed blades. Raphael's eyes were filled with murderous fury. Though it should be beneath him, Leonardo had a knack for knowing just what words to say to set Raphael off.

Michelangelo and Donatello took cover behind an air conditioning unit as they watched in trepidation as their brothers fought. Leonardo moved fluidly, despite his injuries; however, he didn't move quite fast enough and Raphael took advantage of an opening, slashing at his brother's wrist and arm.

Leonardo cried out in pain as the sai cut deeply into his flesh. He dropped his sword and stumbled back, holding a hand to the bleeding wound. Michelangelo and Donatello ran over and separated their siblings.

Donatello examined the wound and frowned with worry when he saw how deep the laceration was. The slash was nearly to the bone, and dangerously close to Leonardo's tendons and a major artery. The purple masked turtle shot a disgusted look at Raphael.

"What's wrong with you, Raph?" he snarled, as he dug a bandage out from within the confines of a first aid kit he pulled from within his duffel bag. He wrapped the wound as best as he could to try to stop the heavy bleeding.

Raphael put his sais in his belt and walked away. "Whatever," he muttered. "Take care of poor, defenceless Leonardo."

"Raphael, get back here!" Leonardo demanded.

Raphael ignored the demand and jumped down to the alley below. Leonardo sighed in resigned irritation, bending down to pick up his fallen weapon. He placed it back in its sheath, and headed back towards the lair with Donatello and Michelangelo following close behind him. As he walked, Leonardo's eyes kept glancing down at the blood that seeped though the white bandage wrapped around his lower arm.

A disturbing thought suddenly passed through his mind.

_Why do I get the feeling that someday Raph's going to be the death of me? _he thought grimly to himself.

* * *

It was nearly dawn by the time Raphael crept back into the lair. The underground dwelling was eerily silent and Raphael assumed that everyone had long since gone to bed for the night. He had hoped that Leonardo hadn't stayed up just to lecture him and reprimand him for not only picking the fight -which had led to Leonardo being injured- but also for staying out so late. Raphael regretted his actions towards his older brother, but Leonardo had to learn when to just admit that he was not perfect and couldn't do everything.

Raphael's eyes swept across the lair and did not notice his older brother ready to pounce, so he quietly made his way up the stairs and into his room. He was thankful and a bit confused that no one had come out to chastise him for the earlier fight, but at the same time he was slightly confused by this unusual occurrence.

Shrugging off his sudden unease, Raphael climbed into his hammock and closed his eyes. After a while, sleep finally overtook him and he drifted off into a dreamless slumber; unsure of the severity of the lecture he was going to receive in the morning.

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Let me know what you think. Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Thanks again to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. You guys are awesome.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

The next morning Raphael woke up, the lair eerily silent. He rolled over onto his side, and glanced at his alarm clock, almost falling to the floor when he saw that it was 8:16 am. He toppled out of his hammock and picked himself up off the floor, running to the bathroom quickly before he hurried downstairs to the dojo. He skidded to a stop just inside the doorway; surprised to find it to be empty.

Raphael frowned in confusion as he listened to the sounds of the lair. The fridge hummed in the kitchen, the computers whirled in Donatello's lab, and pipes dripped from somewhere within the sewers; but there was no sound that indicated that any of his brothers were in the lair.

Raphael turned and slowly left the dojo. He walked into the kitchen, and finding it empty, checked the living room, meditation room, and Donatello's lab. He was beginning to get an uneasy feeling, and it was a sensation that he didn't like having.

He decided to check his brother's bedrooms, in case by some miracle, they had all decided to sleep in. He checked Michelangelo's room first, and apart from the usual clutter of comic books and action figures that littered the floor, the room was empty. Frowning deeply, Raphael made his way slowly down the hall to see if Leonardo and Donatello were in their rooms. Opening each door in turn, he encountered only empty bedrooms.

Raphael slowly turned and walked back down the stairs to the main level. The lair was empty. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, placed a hand to his head, and leaned back against the wall.

_Surely my outburst from the night before hadn't been __**that**__ bad, _he thought to himself in sullen disbelief that his brothers would just take off without telling him.

Not knowing what else to do, Raphael went to the kitchen to get some breakfast. He grabbed a bowl, a spoon, a box of cereal and opened the fridge, grabbing a jug of milk, before sitting down at the kitchen table. He poured the cereal and milk into his bowl, but made no move to start eating it. He glanced at the clock: 8:21 am. A growl was emitted from deep within his throat. They had probably been so angry with him that they had probably decided to spend the night at April and Casey's apartment. Since they were both out of town, and they had a key to get in, they wouldn't be intruding.

He would have gone out to go and talk to them, maybe even apologize for the way he acted; though knowing himself, this possibility was very remote. But besides the risk of being spotted during the daylight hours, he knew that if he went to April's, all that would happen would be he would receive a lengthy, droning lecture by Leonardo, with both Donatello and Michelangelo silently nodding in agreement at his perceived bad behaviour.

Sighing, Raphael managed to eat half a bowl of cereal before the guilt of his angry words towards Leonardo made him too nauseous to eat anymore. He knew he shouldn't have said what he had said to Leonardo, especially because Raphael knew how injured Leonardo still was, and he especially knew his older brother's tendency to overexert and push himself in his training, even when he was not up for the task.

He cleaned up his breakfast dishes and went to the dojo to pound his frustrations out on his punching bag. It was way too quiet; he could hear himself think, which was never a good thing. He abandoned the punching bag a half hour later and went to the garage to see if there was any work that needed to be done on the Shell Cycle.

He wanted something- anything- to happen. He half expected the elevator doors to open, and for his brothers to walk in. But another hour slipped by and no one came back to the lair, nor did he receive a single phone call telling him where they were and for him not to worry about them. He stomped back into the dojo, taking his anger and frustration out on his punching bag, just to give himself something to do.

Each punch became more savage as he reviewed his actions of the night before. Yes he could admit that he had acted like a jerk, but so had Leonardo. If his brother would have just admitted that he wasn't ready for such a long patrol, Raphael could have accepted that. Instead his older brother had hid behind the lame excuse of there not being anything going on last night; which had been completely wrong, because after Raphael had stormed off he had managed to stop four muggings and one attempted robbery, all on his own.

He had been looking forward to rubbing this fact in his proud, infuriating and perfect, older brother's face. A twinge of guilt shot through him at the realization that Leonardo was only acting like Raphael would if he were in the same situation. "Heck if it were me, I woulda been outta bed two weeks earlier," he admitted to himself out loud. Though this may have been part of the problem. He hated it when Leonardo acted like him. It was like all of his imperfections and hang ups were thrown right back in his face, and it grated on his nerves because, "Leo actin' like me pisses me off."

He growled the thought under his breath. He couldn't stand his older brother when he acted exactly like Raphael would, mostly because he didn't actually like Leonardo, and it always made him secretly wonder how his family even managed to like him, let alone love him. He was angry, violent and argumentative, and those were his good qualities. He was vengeful, arrogant, rude, sarcastic, surly and a liar. Most of his thoughts, feelings and emotions were locked behind a barrier of anger; that was really just a shield that protected him from his own self-loathing.

Raphael slammed his fist into the heavy bag one final time, his anger reaching a fever pitch as he struggled against giving into worry. "Fine you don't want to talk to me, then I don't wanna talk to you either. Good riddance. I got the lair to myself. I can do whatever the heck I want, whenever I want. There's no one hoggin' the TV and tellin' me I gotta train, over and over; the same old stuff repeated like a broken record!" He roared into the emptiness of the lair.

He stomped into the living room and threw himself onto the couch, flicking on the TV and channel surfing for a little over forty-five minutes before boredom and restlessness took hold of him once again.

Raphael slid from the couch and looked around the lair. He decided to do some chores just to keep him active. That took up a good part of the morning which continued over into the afternoon. He took a break and made himself a late lunch around 2:30pm, but for some reason his stomach was still too upset to eat very much. He continued with his chores and then decided to practice some of his techniques, which took him into the early evening. He made himself a bowl of cereal for dinner, still not very hungry. He knew that if he actually tried to cook anything he would probably burn the house down; or at least the kitchen. He was a horrible cook and they usually left most of the cooking to Michelangelo, who actually seemed to enjoy it. If Michelangelo didn't actually love cooking all the time, he at the very least seemed to know what he was doing, and that was good enough for Raphael.

Raphael sat at the empty kitchen table and tried to push down the feeling of unease that had been clawing at his gut for a good portion of the day. He was just unable to admit to himself that he was beginning to worry. Even if Donatello and Leonardo were still furious with him, Michelangelo would have forgiven him by now and called him, just to tell him that they were alright.

Raphael pushed himself away from the table and cleaned up his dinner dishes. He then spent the rest of the evening practicing his katas and looking after his sais.

He was so wrapped up in what he was doing, that he jumped when his shell cell rang at 7 pm. Raphael calmed his frayed nerves as he pulled the phone out of his belt. He opened it and looked at the caller ID. His older brother's name was written across the small screen. He pushed "talk" and put the device up to his ear.

"It's about time, Fearless. Where the heck are ya guys?" he demanded angrily.

All of his worry instantly turning to anger at the realization that his brothers were fine, and had just been ignoring him all day. Probably trying to teach him a "lesson". There was nothing but silence on the other end of the line. Raphael pulled the phone away and looked at the ID again before placing the phone back up against his ear.

"Leo?" he asked in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Leonardo is unavailable to take your call right now," a hauntingly familiar voice answered.

Raphael felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as terror crawled up his throat and choked him. "No," he breathed out in horror. "Not you. You...You're supposed to be locked up." He stammered out in denial.

"Well, you didn't do a very good job of leaving me for the police to find," Alfredson replied, a smug smirk could be heard in his voice.

"Where's Leo?" Raphael demanded.

There was a pause for a brief moment before Alfredson decided to answer his question. "He's safe...for now," Alfredson answered coyly. "As are Donatello and Michelangelo."

Adrenalin sparked to life within him, his mind and body going numb as he realized that for the entire day, while he had ranted and railed against his siblings, they had been in the nefarious, and sadistic clutches of the Grim Reaper. It was then that he understood that they had never made it home in the first place. Raphael's fingers tightened around the phone, which creaked ominously in his steel-like grip.

"Where are my brothers?" he snarled threateningly.

He could almost picture in his mind the Grim Reaper's gloating grin. "Well now, if I just told you that, it wouldn't be much fun, now would it?" he questioned infuriatingly.

Raphael's arm tensed as he fought back the urge to scream and throw the phone up against the wall. "Where are they?!" he roared, the fury in his voice underscored by the fear that was dancing up and down his spine in torturous waves.

"Turn the TV to channel ten and you'll find out," Alfredson told him cryptically.

Still keeping the phone held up to his ear, Raphael hurried out and into the living room, grabbing the remote from where he had carelessly thrown it on the couch several hours earlier. He turned the TV to channel ten and watched in confusion as a news report came on. He frowned deeply, not able to understand what the importance of the news story was.

"Twelve hours before you become an only child," Alfredson said in a low, haunting voice, as the line went horrifyingly dead.

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Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Raphael stared at the television with the phone still to his ear, even though all he heard was the sounds of a dial tone.

_Is this really happening__? _he asked himself in mind numbing horror._ Or is this one of those all too realistic nightmares where I just think I'm awake_?_ h_e silently questioned himself bleakly.

He was all alone.

April, Casey and Splinter were away, and his brothers were captured by a murderous psychopath. Raphael finally lowered the shell cell and closed it with a sharp click that seemed to echo around the silent lair. He sank down onto the couch with his eyes still on the television screen.

_What's so important about the news story? _he wondered desperately. It obviously had nothing to do with his abducted siblings.

He linked his fingers together and placed them under his chin, leaning his elbows on his knees. He knew he didn't have time to be sitting around doing nothing; his brothers lives were in jeopardy. But he also knew that if he didn't take time and think things through, his brothers were as good as dead. He wanted nothing more than go out, find Alfredson, and wring his neck for even thinking about showing his face again or placing his brothers at risk again. Instead he sat rooted to the couch glaring at the TV angrily as if it was to blame for what was happening.

As the news woman talked, Raphael's eyes searched the scene around and behind her. He knew the location well; Times Square. It was doubtful that his brothers were in Times Square, unless Alfredson changed his game strategy and wanted to expose them, which was also doubtful.

_Think, Raph, think!_ Raphael berated himself irritably. He growled as his patience began to wane. "Thinkin's for Donny," he snarled in frustration as he swiftly got to his feet.

He was about to head for the elevator when his eyes caught something on the television screen. He squinted as he stepped closer to the TV. He let out a quick breath as he made out the outline of the Times Tower. Everyone knew the building, after all, it was where the New Year's Eve ball drop took place every year.

"What are the chances that..." Raphael started to muttered softly.

Raphael didn't take time to answer his own question. He turned off the TV and bolted for the elevator.

* * *

Michelangelo groaned as he began to wake up. His mind was still groggy as if he was unable to fully shake the slumber that threatened to drag him down again.

The first thing that he noticed was that he was really cold. He blinked his eyes open and looked around. He was sitting in the corner of something he couldn't quite see. He glanced up and panic instantly took over when he saw a fish swim by. Michelangelo looked around again and saw the outline of a clear container. It was big enough for him to stand up in and wide enough so that he could stretch his arms out all the way before touching either side.

He tapped the side, hearing the clink as his knuckles hit the thick glass. His breathing came out in quick, deep gasps of terror. Michelangelo tried to get his breathing under control as he curled up into a tight ball, wrapping his arms around his knees. He was terrified and confused, not knowing what was going on, or how he had gotten trapped within his underwater glass cage. His eyes drifted upward, seeing the faint glint of light above him. The moonlight flickered across the top of the water in a soothing dance, luring Michelangelo back towards unconsciousness.

However, a burst of static broke the serene feeling that had fallen over him. Michelangelo bolted straight up and looked around. He looked up and saw something attached to the side of his container. He squinted as he forced his eyes to adjust to the darkness beyond. He gasped when he made out the shape of a speaker. A groan and moan came through the speaker and Michelangelo instantly recognized the voices belonged to Leonardo and Donatello.

"Leo? Donny? Can you hear me? Are you guys okay?" he asked, his voice shaking with hope that he wasn't trapped alone, and that perhaps his brothers were close enough to rescuing him.

"Mikey?" Donatello asked in confusion. "Where are you?"

Michelangelo looked around at his surroundings. "Underwater," he quietly answered.

He heard Leonardo cough and hiss in pain, most likely due to his many burns not having fully healed yet and the deep gash in his arm.

"That's different," the leader grunted his voice containing an edge of anger, confusion mixed with pain.

There was a short pause before anyone spoke again. "How did we get into this mess?" Donatello quizzed.

They knew of only one person who would go to such lengths, and such tactics and Michelangelo's hand went quickly to the back of his neck, and was thankful that the skin was still smooth and unblemished; the Grim Reaper's brand was absent.

Michelangelo frowned in confusion. The brand wasn't the only thing that was missing; his memory of the events leading up to this point were as well. He tried as hard as he could to remember what had happened, but he drew a blank every time.

"I hate this guy," Leonardo growled.

"At least we can talk to each other," Donatello pointed out softly.

"But, we can't help each other," Leonardo added bleakly.

No one spoke after that. Helplessness was a shared fear between the brothers.

Michelangelo curled into an even tighter ball and placed his chin on his knees. As he listened to his brothers move around their cells a thought occurred to him: Raphael hadn't spoken. Hope began to rise as the thought of his red masked sibling still being free.

"Guys, Raph's still out there," Michelangelo said with excitement. "He's looking for us, I just know it."

"Yes, but knowing the Grim Reaper, finding us isn't going to be easy," Donatello told him gently.

"Come on, it's Raph, he won't give up that easily," Michelangelo put in. He had complete and total faith in his hot-headed brother. He would not stop until he had found them, and no doubt this time, Alfredson would fair much worse than their previous encounter.

* * *

In his coffin, Leonardo watched as fish swam outside the thick glass. He swallowed down his fear and his panic, because it would not help him, nor would it help his brothers.

He pulled his legs up to his chest and placed his arms on his knees. A small sigh escaped him as his eyes drifted to the blood soaked bandage that was still wrapped around his arm. Michelangelo was right; even though the road ahead was going to be difficult, Raphael was too stubborn to give up. And hopefully that stubbornness would pay off.

* * *

Let me know what you think. Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: Thanks to my awesome beta-reader and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. You guys truly rock.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Raphael walked around the roof of the Times Tower, looking for anything that would give him a clue as to where his brothers were being held. He tried to keep to the shadows as much as possible, but it was difficult to do this with all of the flashing, bright lights that flickered and burst to life intermittently around him. He was much too exposed for his liking; which was probably exactly what Alfredson had been hoping for.

Raphael growled in annoyance and he fought against the urge to viciously destroy something. Right now, his brothers needed him to keep his cool; which was getting more and more difficult to do with each passing second.

Raphael continued to pace back and forth in agitation. He knew that he wasn't the smart one; heck, he wasn't even the patient one, or the dedicated one. He was the muscle, that was it. He was the one who brought the pain when it needed to be brought. He wasn't cut out for trying to solve puzzles or riddles and things that made absolutely no sense to him; that would be more Leonardo and Donatello's thing. They should have been the ones searching for him; instead he had left his brother's in a fit of anger. Now they were at the mercy of a madman seeking revenge.

"Alfredson had better pray that I don't find him," Raphael spat viciously as he continued searching the rooftop. "Otherwise _he'll_ be the one that ends up six feet under," Raphael growled.

Raphael just hoped that he would be able to find his brothers in time. He violently squashed down the panic that attempted to rise up within him to choke him. He knew he needed to focus, or else he was going to break down into a weak, pathetic ball of fear that would be unable to save his brother's lives.

He reached up and placed a hand on the back of his neck his fingers gently tracing the puckered skin of the brand that marked his skin. He sighed heavily. He had somehow forgotten the brand was there.

Raphael stopped pacing, a heavy sense of sorrow settling in his chest. He and Donatello never should have survived being kidnapped by the Grim Reaper the first time around. It was only by sheer dumb luck- and the fact that they were ninjas- that they were able to escape with their lives. Alfredson's other victims never had a chance. They would never know who it was that had abducted them, or even know whether or not they would ever be found by their loved ones. But the families would know, because they would be the ones responsible for rescuing those who had been abducted. And they would never, ever have any sense of closure, because they would never know who the man was; neither his name nor his face would ever be known to them, only the sickening moniker of 'The Grim Reaper.'

Raphael lowered his hand and looked out over Times Square. What made him and his brothers so different? Besides the obvious fact that they were mutants. Was it because of their ninja training that they had managed to survive? Or was there another reason? He had never been one to believe in a higher power, he had never seen the point; but, it was a nice thought to believe that someone had been watching out for them during their drawn out battle against the Grim Reaper. It was also nice to believe that another reason why himself and his brothers never died in those coffins, was so that they would be the ones to take out Alfredson; once and for all.

Raphael looked up at the sky and something caught his attention. He turned his head to the right and his eyes widened. A few feet above him was one of Leonardo's swords sticking out of a window. Raphael slipped on the shuko spikes he always carried with him and scaled the few feet to his brother's sword. He pulled it out of the window it was wedged in and slid back down to the ground. Raphael held the blade to his chest for a moment, feeling that much closer to his brothers. He pulled it away and noticed that something was tied to the hilt of the sword. Raphael untied the string and pulled off the small roll of paper. He placed the sword against his shell and unrolled the piece of paper.

He frowned in confusion as he studied what could only be called a 'clue'. It looked like the corner piece to a larger picture, but he couldn't make out what was in the piece he held. The red masked turtle turned the paper over and found thick, blocky writing; written in heavy black felt marker on the back.

_My construction started in 1930_  
_It took three thousand men to build me._  
_For my twentieth birthday in 1950 I received a new antenna, making me 217 feet higher, giving me a total height of 1,467 feet._  
_In 2007, I was named "America's Favorite Architecture" in a poll conducted by the American Institute of Architects._

_Who am I?_

Raphael slapped a hand over his eyes. "Give me a break," he groaned in frustration.

At this rate he would never find his brothers. He really didn't have time to figure out cryptic messages. He looked down at the clue and read it again. Leonardo and Donatello were the history fanatics not him. They were the ones always spurting out random history facts about people and places.

Raphael frowned. Surely some of what his brother's had said managed to sink in? If so he should know this. He ground his teeth together in irritation. Raphael flopped down on the ground and buried his face in his hands. What was Alfredson trying to do to him? This had to be some new form of torture. Raphael growled again as he tried to search his memory for some clue to answer the riddle. Surely Donatello would know the answer, Leonardo probably did as well, but his brothers weren't here to help him, so he was going to have to suck it up and try to use his brain for once.

He looked down and glared at the piece of paper still clutched in his hand, silently cursing the clue for being impossible, and Alfredson for being a psychotic creep. He got to his feet and stretched as he looked out over the city once again, trying to find something to help him. Off in the distance he saw another familiar building. His eyes widened as he remembered one of Donatello's lectures while they had been out on patrol with him. They had passed that building and his genius brother had spouted off on several facts that Raphael had just tuned out.

He hit the side of his head as if trying to jog the memory. He knew the name, he just needed to be sure the facts were the same. Raphael huffed and took off back for the Battle Shell. Facts or not, he had his next location: the Empire State Building.

* * *

Alfredson watched with great satisfaction as Raphael left the Times Tower. The human was sitting comfortably in a computer chair that was located in front of a number of computer monitors that were hidden in a dark room in another abandoned apartment building. Each screen showed different locations around New York, as well as the three buried turtles. The monitors that were trained on different landmarks and sites, each containing a hidden clue, and each more difficult to solve than the last.

The Grim Reaper ran his fingers over the turtle brand on his right cheek and his hatred towards the red masked mutant grew even more. Now, he wished he had branded the youngest, just to add more salt to Raphael's wound when he failed to locate his precious brothers in time.

Alfredson mentally shook and scolded himself. These turtles escaped his clutches twice before, he knew that he should be wary; and not underestimate the resolve, determination and sheer pig-headedness of the hot-head. After all, he had already managed to solve two of the riddles. But there were so many more and so little time in which to find the clues or his brothers.

"Run, little turtle, run," Alfredson whispered in a sinister voice. He watched the Battle Shell speed off towards the Empire State Building. "For it will not be long before I will bear witness to the pain and anguish of your failure, and my delight in your suffering will be so very rewarding."

* * *

Let me know what you think. Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Hidden beneath the shroud of human clothing, Raphael walked through the front entrance of the Empire State Building. Humans hurried about their business, not taking the time to notice a lost and confused teenager wandering blindly around the foyer.

Raphael ducked into a corner and contemplated his options. Alfredson wouldn't hide a clue in the same place twice; so it was possible that more effort had to be made to find the next clue; which was fine with Raphael since he wasn't in the mood to scale the building in search of the next piece of paper.

Raphael's eyes darted around the foyer. Even though he was hidden by his clothing, being in the presence of so many humans unnerved him. He wanted nothing more than to go back out to the Battle Shell and go home. But he knew that the next clue to his brothers' location was somewhere in this building.

Raphael glanced over at the front desk, and for a moment he wondered if the next clue could possibly be with the receptionist. It seemed almost too easy, but it meant that he would have to interact with a human, which was something that he and his brothers tried to avoid unless it was with humans that they knew.

Swallowing down his fear and uncertainty, Raphael made his way over to the front desk, and looked across at the young woman. She was busy typing something into a computer. Raphael subtly cleared his throat and shifted nervously on his feet. The woman looked up when she heard the soft sound. She smiled warmly as she turned to face Raphael fully.

"Welcome to the Empire State Building," she greeted warmly. "How may I help you?"

"I was wondering if you had anything...unusual dropped off here recently," Raphael replied slowly.

The woman frowned slightly. "Unusual, how?" she asked politely.

Raphael resisted the urge to bolt for the front door. This went against everything Splinter had ever taught him and his brothers. Only under extreme emergencies, like when they saved April from the mousers, were they allowed to reveal themselves to humans. Sure, every now and then they would slip up and a pedestrian would spot them, and by now the Purple Dragons were wary and watched the alleys for fear of being busted by the Turtles.

"Sir?" the woman asked, breaking Raphael out of his thoughts. "What do you mean by 'unusual'?" she asked respectfully.

Raphael fingered his sais that lay in the front pocket of his sweater. "Like a letter or package," he hazarded a guess.

The woman's expression became thoughtful for a moment before her eyes lit up as if she remembered something. "As a matter of fact," she started as she got up and went to the back of the desk. "A man came in a few hours ago and left something with us." She turned back to Raphael. "What was the name?" she asked.

"Raphael," the turtle replied.

The woman nodded and picked up something from a shelf in the back. She walked back to the front and placed a strangely shaped package on the desk. A piece of paper with the name "Raphael" was taped to the top.

"The man said someone would be by to pick it up," the woman concluded.

"Did he give you his name?" Raphael questioned.

The woman shook her head. "No, sorry," she apologized. "He just said he was a friend."

Raphael nodded in understanding and took the package. He smiled at the woman. "Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," the woman replied with a sincere smile.

Raphael slipped the package into his sweater pocket and headed back out to where he had left the Battle Shell in a nearby alley. He opened the back door and climbed in. After shutting the door, Raphael took out his weapons and the package from the sweater before pulling it off. He sighed in relief when he was finally free of the constricting piece of clothing. He dropped the sweater onto the floor and then kicked off the pants. He dropped the pants on top of the sweater and placed his sais in his belt. His eyes went to the brown paper wrapped package. He had a sinking feeling of knowing what lay inside.

Raphael sat down in one of the back seats and picked up the package, tearing off the brown paper. He swallowed hard when he found himself holding one of Michelangelo's nunchucks. It was tied together with a piece of string and another piece of paper was wedged under it. Raphael untied the string and picked up the piece of folded paper. He opened it up and discovered it was another piece of a picture, but it didn't fit with the piece he already had. Raphael turned the paper over and let out an irritated huff.

_Although I am originally from France, I am now the quintessential New Yorker,  
And even though I am over 100 years old, I have only had work done on my face once._

_Who am I?_

A smile slowly spread across Raphael's face. Even Michelangelo would have been able to solve this riddle. Raphael put the nunchuck in a compartment with Leonardo's sword and made his way to the front of the Battle Shell. He buckled himself in and turned the van on. After putting the van into "drive", Raphael pulled out into traffic and headed deeper into the city.

* * *

Leonardo woke up when he heard Michelangelo begin to hum. The sound was hauntingly lonely. It pained Leonardo to hear his brothers, but unable to do anything to help them. He leaned back and gazed up at the distorted image of the moon far above his head. His mind wandered to his sensei and human friends. _Did Splinter sense that his sons were in danger? _he wondered to himself.

Was he on his way home at this very moment? And if so, how many sons would be left by the time he got home?

Leonardo shook his head to rid his mind of the heavy thoughts. He needed to have faith that Raphael would get them out in time. The blue masked turtle looked back up at the distant surface of the water and willed his hot-headed brother to come crashing through the water. Sadly, he knew Raphael wouldn't be arriving any time soon; so, he settled back, closed his eyes, and listened to Michelangelo's humming. After a while, the humming stopped and someone spoke.

"Why is this happening again?" Donatello questioned. "The police should have caught him, why is he back?"

Leonardo swallowed hard. He could almost picture the accusing look that no doubt was crossing Donatello's face at that moment. The blue clad turtle curled into a ball and waited for the accusations to begin.

"You knew," Donatello said, directing the words at Leonardo. "You knew what Raph was up to when he disappeared for those few hours."

"No, I didn't," Leonardo replied. "I didn't know what he was doing until I ran into him near Alfredson's apartment."

He jumped when a loud bang sounded through the speaker.

"You should have gone back!" Donatello shouted.

"Donny...I..." Leonardo started.

"You should have made sure he was caught!" Donatello almost shrieked.

Michelangelo cringed and covered his ears, curling into a ball. He hated it when his brothers shouted and yelled, especially when it was Donatello doing the shouting. He was used to hearing Raphael and Leonardo yelling at each other, but it was so rare to hear Donatello shout that it grated on Michelangelo's nerves to the point of being maddening.

"Donny, stop it," Michelangelo pleaded.

"No, Mikey, I won't stop it," Donatello stated. "It was poor judgement on your part that led to this."

Leonardo felt his anger rise at the statement. "Poor judgement?" he repeated, his voice rising. "Poor judgement? You would have done the same thing! Raph said he got Alfredson and I trusted him."

"And look where that got us!" Donatello screamed. "Use your common sense, Leonardo. The Grim Reaper escaped once before, what made you think he wouldn't do so a second time?"

"Raph said he got him!" It was Leonardo's turn to yell. "It was Raphael! Knowing Raph he probably pounded the guy so hard it must have taken every ounce of strength he had left just to breathe, let alone move!"

"Stop it!" Michelangelo shouted. "Stop it, both of you! This isn't helping! All you're doing is wasting air and energy."

Leonardo and Donatello fell silent, but no doubt they were both still fuming.

Michelangelo lowered his hands from his ears and relaxed when he didn't hear any shouting coming through the speaker.

"Donny, this is no one's fault," the youngest continued in a calm and soft voice. "Leo's right; we would have done the same thing. It's Raph we're talking about. We would have taken him up on his word and thought nothing more of it."

Donatello looked down at the floor of his cell, shame washing over him like a wave. He had spoken out in anger and frustration. This was the second time he had been buried alive and he was sick and tired of fighting the Grim Reaper. The man had haunted them for too long and it was time for his reign of terror to end. The purple clad turtle placed a hand to the back of his neck and touched the cursed brand that marred his skin. He really needed to find a way to remove the thing.

"I'm sorry, Leo," Donatello apologized in a quiet and meek voice.

"It's okay, Donny," Leonardo replied in a soothing tone. "It's the frustration talking. And you're right; we _should_ have gone back to double check."

The brothers fell silent. Michelangelo drummed his fingers against his knee and sighed quietly. His eyes drifted up to the top of the cell and to the surface of the water beyond.

_Please hurry, Raphie,_ he silently prayed. _I don't know how much longer we can last down here._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

It had been another climbing excursion, and a difficult one at that. Raphael had never been one to be scared of heights, but as he scaled the outstretched arm of Lady Liberty he had to force himself to keep his eyes on the flame and not on the ground thousands of feet below him. He grunted as he pulled himself up on to the top of the torch and breathed a sigh of relief when he collapsed on the hard surface. Now he just had to figure out how he was supposed to get back down without killing himself.

"Find the clue first, Raph," he told himself sharply. "Then you can worry about getting down alive."

He pushed himself to his feet and carefully made his way around the flame, keeping as close to it as possible. He looked around the corner and found Donatello's bo staff tied to a railing. A piece of paper was tied to the top of the staff and was flapping in the wind like a flag. Raphael made his way over to the staff and untied it carefully from the railing.

After removing the piece of paper, he slipped the bo staff into his belt on his back and studied the paper. His heart dropped when the paper showed a picture of Donatello. He was in some kind of glass container, but Raphael didn't know where the container was located. It didn't look like he was underground, but it also did not look as if he were in a warehouse of some sort either. He turned the paper over and found another riddle written in slanted script on the back.

_My architect was William Van Alen_  
_The ground breaking occurred on September 19, 1928._  
_When I was constructed there was competition in New York to build the world's tallest skyscraper._  
_With the added height of my spire, I surpassed 40 Wall Street as the tallest building in the world._  
_Less than a year after I opened to the public on May 27, 1930, I was surpassed in height by the Empire State Building._

_Who am I?_

Raphael put a hand over his eyes as he went through every well known building in New York City; which was quite a few. He tried to remember Donatello's lectures on the structures in the city. He could feel his eyes begin to burn as he failed to recall anything that had the details in the clue. Raphael slid down the base of the flame until he was sitting down. He pulled his knees up to his chest, folded his arms on his knees and buried his face in his arms. He was letting his brothers down; he was failing. He had no idea what building the clue was referring to.

He lifted his head and stared out across the darkened harbour. "What do I do, Leo?" Raphael asked the empty air. "What the heck is the answer? Come on, if Donny were here he would give you that look that tells you that you are an idiot, and that you should know this one." He growled to himself in irritation, trying not to let despair and fear overwhelm him.

Of course, he received no reply from his older brother and Donatello's voice did not reprimand him from wherever he was being held. Raphael took several deep breaths as he pulled himself together. He had never been known to crack under pressure and he wasn't about to start now; however, the fear of finding his brothers dead was starting to become all too real. Raphael studied the clue again, trying to find key words or names. Surely he had heard Donatello say something of significance that he recognized in the wording of the clue.

"Think, Raph, think," he growled to himself. "William Van Alen was employed by...by..." All of a sudden, a model of a car flashed in his mind. "Chrysler," Raphael said, his eyes shooting open. "Walter Chrysler." His heart leapt as he finally figured out the clue. "The Chrysler Building."

* * *

Alfredson watched as Raphael left the Statue of Liberty and headed for the Chrysler Building. He growled in annoyance and he tightened his grip on the stress reliever ball that he held in his hand. He had underestimated Raphael's intellect. Clearly, he wasn't just another irrational hot-headed, brawn brute; he could figure out complex questions if he put his mind to it.

The Grim Reaper turned his gaze to the monitors that showed his brothers. He had been giddy with excitement when Donatello tore into Leonardo about failing to make sure their enemy had been caught. The purple masked turtle had a point; Leonardo and Raphael _should_ have returned to see if the police had captured their missing prisoner.

Alfredson smiled to himself. It wouldn't have been much fun if he had been caught prematurely. He wanted to have fun with Raphael before the authorities closed in. And besides he wanted to make Raphael pay for the beating he had received at the hands of the red masked mutant. Alfredson placed a hand over the turtle brand on his right cheek and hissed venomously. No matter what happened in the next few hours, Raphael wasn't going to be walking away, at least not without a few new scars of his own.

* * *

Hidden once again beneath a shroud of human clothing, Raphael strained his neck to look up at the imposing building in front of him. He had somehow forgotten how tall the Chrysler Building was.

_No wonder it had once been named the world's tallest building,_ he thought to himself in awe.

"What are the chances that the next clue is at the very top?" Raphael muttered bitterly under his breath.

He growled in irritation; this "scavenger hunt" style guessing game was getting monotonous.

Raphael took out his shell cell to check the time. Nine hours to go and he still had no idea how many clues were left. Taking a deep breath, Raphael headed inside the building and made his way towards the elevator. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. As he waited for the elevator, Raphael gazed around at his surroundings. A few people gave him strange looks as they walked by and he heard a couple of people muttering under their breath. Raphael glanced over his shoulder and saw two security guards heading purposefully towards him.

_Oh shell,_ the turtle thought. _Hurry up you stupid elevator, _he screamed in his head at the doors, praying they would slide open before he was caught.

"Hey, kid," one of the men called out in a stern, warning voice.

The elevator doors finally slid open and Raphael hurried inside, pressing the button for the top floor and jamming his finger repeatedly on the "close door" button. He looked up to see the two men running towards him; however the doors closed just in time before the humans got too close. Raphael breathed out a sigh of relief and slid to the floor. That had been too close for comfort. He had a funny feeling that Alfredson had called ahead to warn security about anyone odd entering the building.

Raphael got to his feet just as the doors slid opened again. However instead of an empty corridor, he was met by a squad of security guards. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach. There was only one way out of this mess and he didn't like using his ninja skills on innocent humans; but he had no other choice. It was either fight his way to the stairs to the roof, or get caught and have his identity discovered. Raphael growled under his breath.

Alfredson was going to pay, and pay dearly.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: Thanks to my wonderful beta-reader and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Raphael could feel every nerve in his body begin to tingle as adrenaline started to pump through his system. His fight or flight reflexes were kicking into overdrive as he fought back the urge to lash out at the humans in front of him. They had him cornered; which was never a good thing. A low growl emitted from deep within his throat as he tried to warn the humans to back off.

"I suggest you move," Raphael snarled menacingly.

A few of the guards faltered, but the rest kept their place. The turtle unconsciously slipped into a defensive position as if the guards were about to attack him. He really didn't have time for this; his brothers needed him to get the next clue, but he couldn't get to it if his path was blocked.

Raphael took several slow, deep breaths to calm himself down as he felt his anger begin to cloud his senses. These were innocent men just doing their job; Leonardo and Splinter would have his head if he attacked innocent humans in a blind rage; he was saving _that_ for Alfredson.

"I'm only going to tell you this once more, move!" Raphael barked sharply.

He ducked to the side as one of the guards shot a taser at him. Fighting back the urge to pull out his sais, Raphael dashed forward, making several guards yell in surprise and pull out their weapons. Raphael lashed out, kicking the weapons out of the hands of the humans and sent most of them to the ground. When his path was clear, Raphael bolted for the door that led to the rooftop stairs.

He yanked the door open and closed it again before gunshots rang out. Breathing heavily, Raphael made his way up the stairs and to the roof where he was faced with the next obstacle; finding the clue. After a few minutes of searching, (he found) no sign of the next clue anywhere on the roof. Raphael nervously looked around one last time before heading back inside.

_Must've missed it inside somewhere,_ he reasoned to himself grimly as he opened a different door cautiously and stepped out into the hallway.

A sharp pain shot through him as every nerve and muscle in his body seized up. He collapsed to the floor, gasping in agonizing pain. Groaning, Raphael looked up to see a guard place a taser gun in his belt before everything went black.

* * *

When Raphael finally regained consciousness he felt two things: one, he felt like an idiot for letting someone sneak up on him and taser him; two, he felt like he was about to throw up. The only good thing he noticed was that he was still hidden beneath the bulky human clothing he wore.

Raphael groaned and went to rub his head, but he quickly found out that he was handcuffed. He chuckled, but it was half-hearted.

_This just keeps getting better and better, _he thought to himself bitterly.

Raphael looked around at the room he was in and immediately determined that he was in an interrogation room of some sort. He would have thought it was funny if he hadn't been on a deadline. He had no idea how long he had been out and how long he had been in the room. These panicked thoughts were interrupted when the door opened, and two police officers walked in. One of them held a large plastic bag and Raphael's heart began to race when he saw Leonardo's second sword tucked neatly inside it. He swallowed hard and tried to keep himself in the chair. The next clue was so close and yet so far away at the same time. One of the men sat down in a chair across the table from Raphael.

"First time being arrested?" the man asked casually.

"There's always a first time for everythin', right?" Raphael asked back cheekily. He suppressed a groan as his head continued to pound. "Was the taser really necessary?"

"You posed a threat," the man coldly replied. He looked at Raphael with an interested look. "Are you some kind of martial artist?"

Raphael shifted slightly in his chair. "I guess you could say that," he answered vaguely. "If you're referring to what happened in the Chrysler Building, your boys got in the way. I was just lookin' for somethin'."

The second man held up the plastic bag with the sword in it. "Was this it?" he questioned.

Raphael swallowed down the lump that was forming in his throat. "Yeah," the turtle replied, knowing that lying wouldn't help his situation. "It belongs to my older brother."

The first man gave Raphael a curious look. "Where did your brother get such a nice sword?" he probed.

Raphael looked over at the sword. He could see the next clue tied to the hilt. Anxiety was quickly beginning to rise in his chest; he didn't have time to play "Twenty Questions" with these humans.

"Well?" the man insisted impatiently. "Where did he get the sword?"

"It was a gift," Raphael half lied smoothly. "He collects swords. And if you must know, that's what I was lookin' for at the Chrysler Building. And I need it."

The man in front of him frowned slightly. "Why do you need it? Surely if your brother is a sword collector he has plenty more."

Raphael ground his teeth together and shook his head. "There's something on that sword that I need," he explained carefully. "And I really don't have time for this interrogation. I need that sword and I have to go."

The man holding the sword looked at the weapon. "Is it the paper you need?" he guessed. "Why is it so important?"

Raphael bit his tongue to keep from yelling. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "My brother's life depends on it. It's the next clue to where my brother is buried."

The men looked at each other in shock and then back at Raphael. "Buried?" the first man echoed in disbelief.

Raphael nodded stiffly. "The Grim Reaper has my brother. He's been terrorizing us ever since he escaped from prison."

The humans paled when Raphael mentioned the Reaper. "How did you know the Grim Reaper escaped?" the second man wanted to know.

"We were the first ones he came after," Raphael answered with a tired sigh. "Look, I know I must not be makin' any sense, but you have to believe me. I only have a certain amount of time before my brother runs out of air. I wasn't lookin' to cause any trouble, I was just lookin' for his sword."

The humans looked at each other again and the first man nodded. The second man placed the sword on the table while his partner went around the table and unlocked the handcuffs. Raphael took the sword and got up.

"Go get your brother," the first officer said.

Raphael smiled at the men and headed out of the room. As soon as he was out of the police station, Raphael took out the remote that would call the Battle Shell and pressed the button. While he waited, Raphael took the sword out of the bag and pulled off the piece of paper from the hilt and read the clue.

_Where do thousands of people go from New York to Paris and back again eight times a week?_

Raphael smiled a brittle grin at the clue and looked up when the Battle Shell pulled up. He climbed in behind the wheel and pulled back the hood of the sweater. He pulled out into traffic and made his way to his next location: The Majestic Theatre.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**: Thanks so much to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing. You guys rock!

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Raphael was glad that he didn't need to hide beneath his street clothes for once. He crept through the backstage shadows of the Majestic Theatre.

The stage was set for a scene from the famous musical _The Phantom of the __Opera_. He remembered when they were kids hearing about the musical from Splinter. Leonardo and Donatello instantly fell in love with it; no doubt finding some connection with the Phantom, since he was a man hidden from the world because he was different. The Phantom of course fell in love with a girl from the outside world, even though she couldn't love him. Raphael thought it was depressing and wondered how anyone could like such a story line.

Raphael peeked out into the main hall, and, when he saw that no one was around, made his way out on to the stage. He walked around, admiring the elaborate setup of the props. He momentarily forgot why he was there, but he quickly reminded himself that he didn't have time to admire the human's handiwork. The turtle searched around for the next clue. He swung around quickly when he heard footsteps enter the theatre.

"Shell," he hissed under his breath as he dove behind a curtain.

He peeked out from behind his hiding place, and saw a group of humans walk into the theatre. They made their way up to the stage, and Raphael had to move so that he wouldn't be seen. He couldn't help but start humming a song from _The Phantom of the Opera_; it was from years of living with Michelangelo.

_I swear, if one of those humans has the next clue, I'm gonna..._

Raphael's thought was interrupted as one of the humans began to speak.

"Looks like we're going to be one cast member short this rehearsal," a man Raphael figured was the director said.

"Who is it, Henry?" a woman asked.

"Daniel. He's got a family matter and won't be able to make it to practice until late tonight," the director replied.

The others gasped and groaned. "But, he's the Phantom," another man pointed out.

Raphael shifted slightly, moving behind one of the prop walls to get a better view, and saw the director take out a package from the bag on his back. Raphael narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"There is a bright side though," the director told the cast members.

"Yeah, what's that?" one of the cast asked, crossing his arms over his chest in irritation.

"I received a phone call today that someone by the name of Raphael will be filling in," the director said.

Raphael slapped a hand over his eyes. Every foul name and curse word that crossed his mind, he threw it at Alfredson. His brothers would be dead by the time he got the clue. Besides, he wasn't much of a singer; he would just be making a fool of himself.

"So, where is this Raphael person, anyway?" another man wanted to know.

Sighing in defeat, Raphael swallowed his pride and answered. "I'm back here," he mumbled.

The humans looked around for the source of the voice. "Where?" another woman asked.

"Behind the wall," Raphael replied. "Just...getting into character. But, I must warn you, I have to go soon. I have a family emergency, plus I need that package your boss is holding."

The director looked down at the package, and then up at the place where the voice was coming from. "Sing one song for us and you can have it," the man said.

Raphael ran a hand down his face. "Fine," he grumbled. "So, what do you need me to do?"

"First of all, you need to be out here," the director told him. "We're doing _Music of the Night__."_

Raphael clamped down on his tongue to keep from yelling, wincing as pain shot through his mouth_. __Music of the Night_? Of all the songs, why did it have to be _that_ one? It was the most famous song and it was all done by the Phantom.

"Raphael? You still back there?" the director asked.

"I'm here," Raphael answered in a weak voice. He looked around and saw a chest. He went over to it and opened it. "Just getting ready."

He pulled out the pieces of dark clothing, a cape, and the signature white mask. He quickly got dressed; hoping that the costume would hide his appearance. Luckily, there was also a dark haired wig hidden at the bottom of the chest. He pulled off his mask and tied it to his belt before pulling on the costume. He put on the wig, immediately regretting it as the bangs fell down over his eyes. He put on the Phantom mask and then made his way out on to the stage.

"Have you ever performed before?" the director asked (him).

Raphael inwardly sighed in relief; the costume did wonders at hiding his appearance. "No, I haven't," he replied honestly. "Never saw the point. I'm not much of an actor or singer."

The director smiled. "Well, we'll see now, won't we?" he said as he went down to the seats and sat down in the front row as the other cast members got into their positions.

Raphael hoped and prayed that he remembered the words to the song. Donatello had forced him to sit down and watch the movie about a dozen times, so he should be able to stumble his way through it. The director motioned to someone up in the sound booth and the music started.

* * *

Alfredson sat staring in admiration at the computer screen that showed the Majestic Theatre. For a turtle that lived in the sewers, Raphael wasn't a half bad singer. Alfredson wondered where and how he had managed to find the time to practice; if the turtle even bothered to practice singing. In the theatre, everyone stared at the turtle as he finished the song. Raphael looked around at the amazed gazes.

"Was I really that bad?" he asked.

The director suddenly burst into applause. "Bravo!" he cheered. "Bravisima!"

One of the men came up and playfully nudged Raphael in the shoulder. "For someone who's never acted before, you're not bad," he said.

Raphael chuckled nervously. "Thanks," the turtle replied feeling a blush staining his cheeks dark.

The director walked up onto the stage and held out the brown paper wrapped package. "I believe this is yours. Thank you," he said with a genuine smile.

Raphael took the package and bowed slightly. "Thank you," he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, exit stage left," he quipped.

He disappeared backstage, shedding the costume and running out to the Battle Shell. He climbed into the van and tore off the brown paper. He held Michelangelo's second nunchuck. He pulled off the note that was tied to the weapon and looked at it.

_Weight in my belly,_  
_Trees on my back,_  
_Nails in my ribs,_  
_Feet do I lack._

_What am I?_

Raphael's heart sank. "Time," he groaned. He checked the time on his shell cell. "I'm running out of time."

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Raphael turned the nunchuck over in his hands, wondering if his baby brother would ever get to use it again. He frowned when he saw another piece of paper wedged between the handles of the weapon. Raphael pulled it out and examined it. Two clues with the same weapon? Raphael couldn't help but be worried that for once the Grim Reaper was actually being helpful; there had to be a catch.

Taking out the clues he already had, Raphael arranged the pictures. He placed one of the clues with Michelangelo's picture and the other one with Donatello's. He picked up the second clue and read it.

_Whoever makes it, tells it not. _  
_Whoever takes it, knows it not. _  
_Whoever knows it, wants it not. _

_What is it?_

Raphael frowned in confusion. He did just fine figuring out riddles about buildings, but he had no idea when it came to riddles about things. He growled in irritation and slammed his fist against the side of the van. He ignored the pain that shot through his knuckles and studied the riddle again. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Whoever makes it, tells it not," he mumbled under his breath, thinking about each word carefully. "Whoever takes it, knows it not. Whoever knows it, wants it not. What is it?" He tapped his fist against his forehead as if doing so would solve the riddle. "Riddle me that," Raphael grumbled irritably. He was beginning to get a headache. "Whoever makes it...tells it not."

He looked out the window and saw someone walk up to an ATM machine at a bank a few feet away. Raphael narrowed his eyes, which then began to widen as he saw the human take out a few paper bills.

"Counterfeit money," Raphael answered triumphantly, his heart leaping for joy for figuring the riddle out. However, it quickly dropped into his stomach as he realized where all counterfeit money went when the police got their hands on it. The evidence locker at the police station. "Oh shell," Raphael groaned.

* * *

He had always been a law-abiding turtle, even though the government never knew he existed. However, as Raphael sat parked in an alley across the street from the police station, he wondered what would happen if he got caught for breaking into the evidence locker. Of course, he wouldn't get caught, since he was a ninja and this was clearly a stealth mission. However, he had already been inside the station once tonight, and he didn't want to go back in. Unfortunately the next clue was hidden somewhere in the evidence locker, and his brothers were counting on him.

Raphael climbed out of the Battle Shell and closed the door. Humans went in and out of the building, making Raphael wonder how exactly how he was going to get in without being seen. He ran across the street and ducked into the shadows of the alley beside the station. He looked along the bottom of the building and smiled when he noticed a window that had been left open. He pushed the window open even more and slid through, finding himself in a basement office.

Raphael snuck out of the office and checked the hallway to make sure no one was around before making a mad dash for the elevator. He pressed the button and waited impatiently for the doors to open. Footsteps echoed down the hall and Raphael's heart went into overdrive as it began to frantically pound within his chest. The doors finally opened and Raphael ducked inside, hitting the button for the bottom floor. The doors slid closed before someone came around the corner.

As soon as the doors opened again, Raphael made his way for cover. From his hiding place, he surveyed the room. He growled under his breath when he saw the coded padlock on the door. He was going to need a key card to get inside the locker. Raphael slid further into the shadows when the elevator doors opened again and a police officer walked out. The turtle watched as the man took out a key card and swiped it through the slot on the lock. Raphael smirked and quietly made his way over to the locker door. He grabbed the handle just before it closed and he slipped silently inside.

He heard voices coming from somewhere within the small room but he didn't pay any attention to what they were saying. Making sure that none of the humans saw him, Raphael searched the rows of boxes on the countless shelves. Panic began to set in when Raphael didn't find what he was looking for. He was about to turn down another aisle when his eye caught a flash of blue. Raphael headed over to where he had seen the flash and saw a blue mask, torn, dirty and bloody, sticking out of a box marked "Grim Reaper".

"Come to Raphie," Raphael hissed softly as he carefully opened the box.

He reached in and pulled out Leonardo's mask as well as the next clue. He would have breathed a sigh of relief if he hadn't felt a presence behind him. He slowly turned around and saw the police officer from before and the locker guard standing behind him. They both stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Raphael smiled nervously at the men and waved before bolting for the door.

"Freeze!" the officer yelled.

"Like that's gonna happen," Raphael grumbled as he burst through the door.

He ducked to the side when gunshots rang out. The elevator doors opened again and more officers came through; more than likely the locker guard had called for backup. Raphael tied the mask to his belt and jumped. He sailed over the heads of the humans before they could open fire on him and landed in the elevator. He kicked out, sending the men toppling into one another. The doors thankfully slid closed and Raphael hit the button for the floor above. Breathing heavily, he ran for the office when the doors opened again and climbed back through the window.

"So much for stealth," Raphael snarled at himself as he made a mad dash for the Battle Shell.

He climbed into the van, turned it on and drove away before the police could catch up to him. As he drove, Raphael untied the mask from his belt and used his teeth to pull out the piece of paper. The picture showed Leonardo, but it was still unclear as to where his brother was being kept. Raphael turned the paper over and read the next clue.

_You must keep this thing, its loss will affect your brothers._  
_For once yours is lost, it will soon be lost by others._

_What is it?_

Raphael's breathing slowed down to a normal pace as he thought about the riddle. It wasn't a clue to the next location, it was a thing.

"What is it?" Raphael asked, the answer washing over him like a cold tidal wave. "My temper."

But, what did his temper have to do with anything? Unless...

Raphael glanced down at his brother's mask clutched in his hand. What made him lose his temper more than his older brother? Raphael swallowed down the lump that was quickly forming in his throat.

The Purple Dragons.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N**: Thanks once again to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. Happy holidays, everyone!

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

"Leo?"

Leonardo looked up at the speaker when he heard his little brother's voice.

"Yes, Mikey?" he asked.

"Is Raph really looking for us?" Michelangelo asked quietly.

Leonardo frowned slightly. He was confused about why Michelangelo was asking such a question. "Of course he is," he answered confidently without any hesitation. "We just have to be patient and wait." He looked down at his bandaged arm. "He'll come."

"But, we were mean to him," Michelangelo pointed out.

Donatello sighed. "Mikey, that's the fear talking," he reasoned. "Alfredson put us in containers larger than last time because he knew it would take a longer time for Raph to find us. We have enough air to last us until Raph gets here, don't worry."

Michelangelo hummed in thought, but didn't say anything else. He just curled up into a ball and closed his eyes; willing himself to sleep.

* * *

Raphael swallowed hard as he watched Purple Dragons walk in and out of their warehouse base. Somewhere among that throng of humans was the next clue to where his brothers were being kept. He was just glad he wasn't going to have to sing to get the next clue, but hopefully he would be able to punch something or someone; preferably some_one_.

Dressed once again in his human clothes, Raphael climbed out of the Battle Shell and cautiously made his way over to the front door. He held up his hand in the standard three-fingered salute and the guard allowed him to pass. Keeping his head down, Raphael walked inside and headed over to the far corner and willed himself to disappear into the shadows as he watched some of the men fight in the wrestling ring in the center of the room. He felt his body begin to tense; even being in the presence of these humans was grating on his nerves.

A call went out for another round and Raphael seriously considered joining in on the fight; but he had work to do and he had no idea of where he would even begin to start looking for the next clue.

_Maybe the next clue ain't even here,_ Raphael thought bitterly as he watched the next match begin.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hun walk into the room, and his fists instantly clenched together in white knuckled fury as his anger rose to dangerous levels when he saw Hun hold up Donatello's mask to show one of the other Dragons. Raphael pushed off of the wall and began striding over to where Hun was standing; however, before he reached Hun, Raphael forced himself to stop as some tiny sliver of reason managed to permeate his mind.

He knew that if he attacked Hun now, he would blow his cover and have the entire Purple Dragons gang on top of him; and even with his skills there was no way he would be able to fight off the entire gang by himself without wasting what little precious amount of time he had left.

_Think about it logically,_ Raphael silently coaxed himself. _Just like Donny. What would Donny do? _He paused. _What __**would**__ Donny do? _he asked himself.

Hun tucked the mask into his pocket; luckily some of the mask still hung out. Raphael followed Hun to the bleachers and took a seat behind Shredder's right hand man. Carefully, Raphael slipped out a sai and hid it under his jacket sleeve. While everyone else had their attention on the fight, Raphael slowly reached out and hooked the tip of his sai through the eye hole of the mask. He held his breath as he slid the mask out of Hun's pocket and waited to see if the man had noticed.

Raphael went to pull his hand back, but Hun suddenly grabbed his wrist, yanked the mask off of the sai, and threw him over his shoulder and onto the floor in front of the entire gang. The match in the ring instantly stopped as everyone turned to see what was happening. Raphael groaned as he pushed himself up off the floor. Hun grabbed the back of his jacket, lifted him to his feet and pulled back the hood of his jacket. The gang all gasped in surprise.

"Thought you could sneak in without my noticing, huh?" Hun asked, pushing Raphael back to the floor.

The turtle growled as he slowly got to his feet. He turned to face his most annoying enemy. Hun chuckled when he saw the look of rage on Raphael's face.

"Looking for this?" the human inquired, holding up the mask with the next clue tied to it.

"Hands off my brother's mask, Hun," Raphael snarled threateningly as he pulled out his other sai.

Hun grinned evilly. "I don't think so, Freak," he said, making Raphael's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Your friend, Alfredson dropped by earlier tonight," Hun explained.

"Did he now?" Raphael asked, flexing his fingers around the hilts of his sais.

"He told me you'd be looking for this, and to make sure you got it," Hun continued.

Raphael huffed. "How nice of him," he muttered sarcastically.

Hun's grin widened. "Yes, however he failed to mention how you were supposed to get it."

Raphael's eyes darted around. Already he was surrounded and all of his exits were blocked off. Raphael took several deep breaths and prepared himself for the impending fight. He turned his attention back to Hun.

"All I want is the mask, Hun," he stated. "Hand it over and no one gets hurt."

Hun laughed darkly. "Oh, but someone _is_ going to get hurt," he replied as his Dragons closed in. "And that someone is _you_."

* * *

Raphael growled low in his chest, he really didn't have time for this. He jumped and kicked two Dragons that got the brilliant idea of charging him. After that first attack, he was swarmed. Raphael lashed out at anyone who got too close. He jumped, landed on one man's shoulders, grabbed the back of his shirt and flipped over his back, throwing the man into two more Dragons that came charging at him. Raphael let out a snarl of frustration when he saw Hun take a few steps back to allow his men better access to the fight.

More Dragons went down, but several more took their place. Hun made no attempt to intervene. Raphael continued to fight back, but his energy was beginning to wane. He only had one shot at getting that mask and he was going to have to take it, and soon. Raphael looked over his shoulder to see a Dragon coming at him from behind. He then swung his head around to see three more charging at him from the front and sides. Raphael jumped into the air, allowing the men to crash into each other. He landed on the pile and pushed off, sailing over the heads of the other Dragons. Raphael landed on another man's shoulders and jumped again, throwing himself at Hun.

Hun brought his fist up and slammed it into his stomach. Raphael collapsed in a painful heap on the floor. He curled into a ball, wrapped his arms around his stomach and gasped for air. Hun chuckled as he watched Raphael squirm and fight to breathe. Hun reached down and grabbed the back of Raphael's jacket, pulling him to his knees.

"So sorry you didn't get to your brothers in time, Reptile. I'll tell them you said 'hi'," Hun hissed in Raphael's ear.

"No thanks," Raphael said. "I'll tell them myself."

He brought his sai up and hit the butt of the hilt in between Hun's eyes. Hun released his grip on the jacket and fell back. Raphael jumped to his feet and bolted for the front door. He looked down at the mask clenched tightly in his hand. He smiled in satisfaction and looked over his shoulder to see the Purple Dragons chasing after him as he ran from the building. His satisfaction was short lived when he heard the sound of squealing tires and then everything erupted in a swirling mass of excruciating pain and enveloping darkness.

* * *

Raphael found himself sprawled out upon the pavement. He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up, but quickly bit back a cry as pain shot through his legs. He gasped when he could barely move his legs. Raphael let out a choked breath and looked down. He couldn't see any immediate injury, but when he went to touch the part of his leg where the pain was radiating from, his hand came back wet with crimson blood. He quickly pulled the hood further up over his head when people began to gather around him. Someone ran up to him and dropped to their knees.

"I am so sorry," the man apologized. "I didn't see you crossing the street."

_I got hit by a car?_ Raphael asked himself in stunned disbelief. He was really out of it tonight.

"I'll call an ambulance," the man offered, going for his cell phone.

Raphael grabbed the man's wrist. "No," he said, his voice strained. "I'm fine."

However, when he tried to move his legs he let out a strangled cry. This couldn't be happening; not now. Not when he was so close. This couldn't be where it ended; he had to get to his brothers, they were running out of time. Raphael took several deep calming breaths as he forced movement back into his mangled legs.

_Mind over matter,_ he thought. _It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt. I'm not going down like this._

Raphael bit his tongue as he finally managed to get to his feet gradually. Everyone around him stared at him with disbelieving gazes, but he didn't care. Raphael looked down at the man who had struck him.

"Don't worry about it, I'm fine," Raphael said calmly, clearly lying, but he didn't care at this point; his brothers were more important then his own wellbeing.

"But...I..." the man started worriedly.

Raphael placed a hand on his shoulder. "It was an accident, I'm fine. If it'll make you feel any better I'll check myself into a hospital. But I really have to go."

He sluggishly limped back to the Battle Shell and, with great difficulty he climbed into the back. He gasped for breath as he collapsed into one of the chairs in the back. He rummaged around until he found the first aid kit and pulled out a roll of bandages and a bottle of painkillers. He pulled off the pants and tossed them on to the floor. Raphael hissed when he saw the state his legs were in. Blood oozed out of large gashes that had been torn into the flesh of his lower thighs and calves, where the car had hit him.

"Mind over matter, Raph," he told himself as he bandaged up his legs, knowing that he probably needed stitches as the blood slowly seeped through the stark white of the bandages.

When he was done, he tied the bandages off and threw the roll on to the floor. He opened the bottle of painkillers and shook out two pills into his hand, tossing them into his mouth and swallowing them dry. He then pulled out his genius brother's mask and untied the piece of paper from the amethyst fabric. With shaking fingers he unfolded the paper and read the clue.

_I make you weak at the worst of all times. _  
_I keep you safe, I keep you fine. _  
_I make your hands sweat, and your heart grow cold, _  
_I visit the weak, but seldom the bold. _

_What am I?_

Raphael laid his head against his hands and panted for breath. He was clearly going into shock, but he didn't have time for it.

"It's, uh...uh..."

Raphael took a deep breath and slowly let it out, forcing himself to calm down and focus on the clue. Why was he shaking so much?

"Fear," he breathed. "It's fear."

But, what was he most afraid of? Failing his brothers? That was a given, but it didn't help. This entire time he had been fighting his greatest fear, the Grim Reaper. And where did people go when they finally crossed paths with the Reaper? And the place where the Grim Reaper's victims were laid to rest...

The cemetery.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. You guys are awesome! And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far, I'm really glad that you're enjoying the story.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

It took everything Raphael had not to pass out from the pain as he limped heavily through the rows upon rows of gravestones. Raphael looked around for any sign of the next clue. He took out his shell cell and checked the time. He had one hour remaining before it was game over. Grunting as he pushed the pain from his mind, Raphael put the shell cell back in his belt and continued his desperate search for the next clue.

He wasn't sure how long he staggered through the cemetery, each step more difficult than the last, until his legs finally buckled and gave out on him. Raphael collapsed in a heap up against a beautifully carved, white marble angel.

The angel was kneeling and it had its hands folded, and its head bowed in reverence as if it was praying. Raphael hissed as he pulled himself up to sit up against the base of the statue. His legs were throbbing and the bandages were soaked through with blood.

He silently cursed. This couldn't be the end; he had to find his brothers. Leaning his head back against the cool stone, Raphael looked up at the sky, the first rays of dawn piercing the darkness. A streak of orange flashed across his line of sight. He gasped when he saw Michelangelo's mask hanging down from the angel's delicately folded hands. He reached up and grabbed his little brother's mask. He pulled out the piece of paper that was tied to the mask and unfolded it.

_I am mother and father, but never birth or nurse. _  
_I'm rarely still, but I never wander. _

_What am I?_

Raphael groaned as he hung his head at yet another riddle and put a fist to his forehead. The pain from his legs was messing up his concentration.

"Come on, Raphie boy, ya gotta focus they're counting on you," Raphael told himself. "What is it?"

He looked up, gasping as agony continued to burn through every tiny, sensitive nerve ending in his legs. He searched the cemetery hopefully, as if the gravestones could talk and solve the riddle for him. His eyes finally fell upon a few leafless trees.

"A tree," Raphael inhaled sharply as the answer hit him. "And where's the most trees in New York?" He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his lowers legs as if that would help relieve some of the burning pain. "Central Park." His eyes opened as his heart began to race frantically. "Central Park," he repeated his voice desperate.

Raphael pulled himself to his feet and stumbled his way back to the Battle Shell. Once he was inside, he placed the new clue with the rest of the clues he had gathered, his eyes falling upon Michelangelo's picture that the clues formed. He turned the pictures around, his heart sinking. All of his brothers were limp and lifeless in their separate photos. _Were his brothers already dead? Was he just going to be recovering their corpses? _He wondered mournfully.

Swallowing down the bile that rose up in his throat, Raphael noticed words written at the bottom of Leonardo's picture and at the top of both Donatello's and Michelangelo's pictures. He squinted against the dark coloring of the photos and read the words.

_The man who invented it doesn't want it. _  
_The man who bought it doesn't need it. _  
_The man who needs it doesn't know it. _

_What is it?_

Raphael was contemplating what the riddle meant when his shell cell rang shrilly in the grim silence. He took it out, opened it and checked the caller ID. Leonardo's name was written across the small screen. Swallowing hard, Raphael pushed "talk" and placed the phone to his ear.

"I'm surprised you made it this far, Red," Alfredson said a smile in his voice.

"What sick, twisted game are you playing?" Raphael hissed angrily.

Alfredson chuckled. "The game I always play, Red. Only this time, you ran out of time."

Raphael tightened his grip on the phone. "I have one hour left!" he shouted into the phone. "My brothers are _not _dead!" He yelled in denial. "Where are they?!"

Alfredson laughed again, the sound grating on Raphael's nerves. "You have the clues, figure it out. You've already figured out where one brother is, but here's the catch: You can only save one of them." There was the sound of a switch being flipped. "Time's a' wastin', Red. Who's it gonna be?"

The line went dead. Raphael's heart refused to beat. He could only save one of his brothers? Save one and leave the other two to die? He dropped the shell cell and looked over the clues again. He felt sick when he read the Statue of Liberty riddle again. Battery Park was on the way to the ferry to get to the Statue of Liberty. He had been right on top of one of his brothers and he hadn't even known it. And the Purple Dragon's base was a half hour drive from Inwood Hill Park. He had been so close to saving two of his brothers and he never realised it.

Raphael scrambled into the front seat and got behind the wheel. He was closest to Central Park. He wasn't going to let some twisted psychopath tell him that he could only save _one _brother.

* * *

Michelangelo watched in horror as his cell began to quickly fill with water. He whimpered, panic quickly taking over. The youngest turtle hit his shoulder off of the side of the cell in a desperate attempt to get free, but the glass wouldn't budge.

"Leo? Donny?" Michelangelo called.

"We're Mikey," Donatello replied. "We're here."

Michelangelo whimpered again and he looked up to the surface of the water beyond the cell. "Leo, you still think Raph's on his way?" he asked. He turned back to the water that was now up to his knees.

"He's coming, Mikey," Leonardo reassured his brother, hearing the splashing of water on the other side of the speaker. He had never felt so panicked in his life. All he could do was speak comforting words to his brother. Leonardo looked down to find that water was creeping its water into his cell as well.

"I don't want to die, Leo," Michelangelo moaned.

Leonardo swallowed back tears that were beginning to burn his eyes. "You're not going to die, Mike," he said, his voice stern. "You hear me? You're not going to die. You hear me? Not you and not Donny."

"What about you, Leo?" Donatello asked.

Leonardo took a shaky breath. He had to keep his brothers calm. "None of us are going to die," he replied. "Raph's on his way and..." The speaker began to spark. "Mikey?" Leonardo asked.

"Le...o," Michelangelo gasped. "It's almost...I can't..."

"Mikey? Mikey?" Donatello called desperately, panic lacing his voice.

"You're going to be okay, Mike, hold on!" Leonardo said just as the speaker went dead.

An unnatural silence fell after the last spark rendered the speaker in Michelangelo's cell lifeless. In his mind's eye, Leonardo could see a chess board with a full army of black pieces and only four white pieces. He saw the Grim Reaper move one of his pieces to remove one of the white pieces from the board. Leonardo took several deep breaths to try to keep himself calm. He could hear Donatello break down into tears.

"Raph's on his way," Leonardo told his brother in a soft voice. "We're going to see Mike again."

* * *

Michelangelo hit his shoulder on the side of the cell again, but still it didn't budge. He had been unable to hear Leonardo's last words of encouragement when the speaker died. This was it; he was going to die scared and all alone, not even having the small comfort of his brothers to ease the torment of his slow death.

He looked up at the surface far above him. _Raphie, where are you?_ he asked desperately.

* * *

Meanwhile Raphael pulled up to Turtle's Pond in Central Park. He had searched everywhere he could think of in the park, but nothing turned up anything that would lead hiim to his brother. This was the last place to check. He jumped out of the van and bolted for the pond. He saw a piece of paper and a small device taped to a tree. He went over and ripped the device and paper off. He read the riddle on the paper quickly.

_If you break me,  
__I do not stop working._  
_If you touch me,_  
_I may be snared._  
_If you lose me,_  
_Nothing will matter._

_What am I?_

Raphael looked from the note to the device. The thing was an industrial glass breaker. Raphael threw the note to the ground and then dove into the icy cold, darkened depths of the pond.

Down below, Michelangelo could feel the last of the air in his lungs run out. Darkness began creeping along the edges of his vision as blissful unconsciousness started to take a hold of him. His eyes drifted shut and seconds later the glass that made up his prison shattered into tiny fragments.

He vaguely felt someone grab his arm and pull him towards the surface. Moments later they broke the surface, both gasping and panting for air. Michelangelo looked over to see the exhausted and pain stricken face of his red masked brother.

"Raphie!" Michelangelo exclaimed in joy, his voice hoarse. "Where have you been?"

"We don't have time for that right now, Mike," Raphael told him, pulling him towards the edge of the pond. "We still have to get to Donny and Leo."

The brothers pulled themselves out of the water and climbed into the Battle Shell picking the clue up on the way that Raphael had discarded in his mad dash to save his baby brother's life.

Michelangelo read the riddle and looked over at his brother as Raphael drove out of the park.

"Did you solve the riddle?" Michelangelo asked quietly.

"Yeah," Raphael answered, his voice strained.

Michelangelo looked down at the riddle again. "What's the answer?" he wanted to know.

Raphael was silent for a few moments before he spoke. "One's heart," he answered in a soft voice.

Michelangelo fell quiet as he let the words sink in. _What kind of hell did the Grim Reaper put his brother through? _He would probably never know since Raphael (never talked) about what was bothering him.

Michelangelo sat back in the seat and watched as buildings and cars fly by. _Would they get to Leonardo and Donatello in time? _he wondered grimly.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N**: Thanks always to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Donatello watched numbly as the water in his cell slowly crept up to his knees; tears still silently streaming down his face.

It had been a few minutes since the speaker in Michelangelo's cell had gone out, and even though they were part turtle, they could only hold their breath for so long. Donatello's grim musings were interrupted when he heard water sloshing from the other side of the speaker, signaling that Leonardo was probably pacing.

"Do you think Raph got to Mikey in time?" Donatello asked quietly, his voice filled with worry and an underlying note of grief.

"I know he did, Don," Leonardo replied confidently. He looked down to see the water rise up to his ankles.

Donatello leaned up against the cold glass and sighed, closing his eyes and wishing that he would wake up from this nightmare that had become his life for the last few hours. "Why does he do it?" the purple masked turtle asked.

"Why does who do what?" Leonardo asked in confusion.

"The Grim Reaper. Why does he bury people alive and watch them die?" Donatello wanted to know.

Leonardo fell silent as he pondered the question. Finally, he shrugged. "I don't know, Donny," he replied truthfully. "Humans are always doing things that make no sense to me."

Donatello looked down at the water again, which was now up to his waist. "Maybe I'll start studying psychology," he mused, trying to lighten his darkening mood. "Maybe I'll finally figure out what makes the human brain tick."

Leonardo chuckled. "Good luck with that," he told his brother. "You can spend years studying the human brain and never fully understand it."

"Meh," Donatello said. "Worth a shot." A small smile crossed his lips as he thought about April and Casey. "April and Casey can be the test subjects."

Leonardo smiled. "Yeah," he agreed. "Then you can try to figure out why Casey's such a bonehead."

Donatello laughed as he wiped fresh tears from his eyes. He looked up at the sky, which was now starting to lighten up with the rising sun. He sighed longingly for the world above the water's surface. "At least we got to see the sunrise," Donatello told his brother.

Leonardo turned his eyes skyward and hummed. "Yeah. And we'll see a lot more of them once we're out of here." He shivered against the cold, from the water that was seeping into his body. "We'll get out of here, Donny." The speaker began to spark. "Donny?"

Donatello took in a sharp, shaky breath as the water reached up to his neck. "I'll see you on the other side, Leo," he said sadly. "Love you..."

Leonardo's heart sank into the pit of his stomach when the speaker finally died. Tears of pain, agony and sorrow filled his eyes and he collapsed to the cell floor, burying his face in his hands as he broke down. He had failed his brothers. He could do nothing for them except offer them words of encouragement and hope, but that wasn't enough. He couldn't save them.

"Save them, Raph," Leonardo said to the silent air. "I don't care about my life, just save Mike and Don."

* * *

Donatello fought to keep himself calm. He closed his eyes and concentrated on slowing his heartbeat down to save oxygen. If he panicked, he would lose what precious air he had left.

_You're in your natural environment,_ he told himself. _Turtles spend countless hours underwater. But we're not all turtle anymore. The longest we can stay under is forty-five minutes to an hour, then we run out of air, _he thought bitterly.

Donatello felt his heart beat begin to slow down as he slipped into a deep meditative state. He would try to hold out as long as possible while waiting for his brother; however, even normal turtles had to surface for air at some point. It was just a matter of time and patience.

* * *

When Raphael and Michelangelo arrived at Battery Park, they jumped out of the van and split up, searching for something that would lead them to their brothers' location.

Raphael leaned up against a tree to steady himself as pain once again radiated up from the wounds on his legs.

"Raphie, over here!" Michelangelo called out in excitement, his voice hopeful.

Raphael pushed off of the tree and limped over to where his brother had called from.

Michelangelo was standing next to the pond with a piece of paper in his hand. The youngest held the paper out for Raphael to take. The red masked turtle took the note and read the riddle.

_I have billions of eyes yet I live in darkness. _  
_I have millions of ears yet only four lobes. _  
_I have no muscles, yet I move two hemispheres. _

_What am I?_

"What's the answer, Raph?" Michelangelo asked, his voice desperate.

Raphael looked at his brother. "What makes you think I know the answer?"

Michelangelo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, you figured out the riddle that led you to me and all the other riddles," he pointed out.

Raphael read the riddle again and closed his eyes to concentrate. His head was beginning to pound furiously, his vision darkening around the edges.

Suddenly his eyes shot open.

"Donny," Raph barked eagerly.

Michelangelo frowned in confusion. "Donny?" he echoed baffled as he looked around for his purple mask brother.

Raphael turned to look at the pond's tranquil water. "We're here for Donny. The answer's 'a brain'."

He gave the note back to Michelangelo and dove into the water. Raphael swam down and soon saw a second glass coffin at the bottom of the pond, and inside was a very motionless Donatello.

As he got closer, Raphael saw that his brother was in a meditative position, no doubt in a meditative state trying to conserve air while inside the flooded coffin. Raphael placed the tip of the glass breaker against the side of the coffin and gave a small push. The glass shattered instantly and Raphael wasted no time in grabbing Donatello and hauling him back to the surface.

Raphael pulled his limp younger brother to shore, dragging him up onto the grass. Raphael stared down at his unmoving brother, shaking his head from side to side in denial. His fingers deftly sought and found a faint, slow pulse, but his brother wasn't breathing.

Raphael grabbed both of Donatello's shoulders and shook him fiercely, willing his brother to break from his meditative state and take in a much needed breath of air.

"Donny!" he shouted as his brother remained unresponsive. Raphael finally sat back on his haunches and gave Donatello an open-handed slap across the face.

Donatello's eyes snapped open as he took in a deep lung-full of air. This was quickly followed by an immediate coughing fit that took a few moments to subside. Michelangelo resisted the urge to throw his arms around his staff wielding brother.

After a while, Donatello finally managed to get his breathing under control and he looked up at his siblings.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Raph," Donatello rasped out harshly between weak coughs.

Raphael smirked and pulled his brother to his feet. "Come on, we have to get Leo."

Michelangelo helped Donatello to the Battle Shell and they climbed into the back while Raphael climbed in behind the wheel. Donatello noticed the pictures that were laid out on the floor. He swallowed hard when he saw his limp form as well as Leonardo's and Michelangelo's. Did Raphael think that they were already dead? He was about to ask his hot-headed brother about the pictures, but they were already moving. Donatello sat back and concentrated on his breathing instead. A few more minutes and he would have been a goner for sure. He just hoped that Leonardo was going to be okay by the time they got to him.

* * *

The water had long ago reached the top of the cell, completely submerging the blue masked turtle in frigid water. Leonardo had done everything he could think of to conserve his air, but it wasn't enough. His lungs screamed for oxygen, but that was something he couldn't give them. Darkness swam in the corners of his vision and he knew he would be blacking out at any moment.

Leonardo opened his eyes and slowly looked up at the surface, far beyond his soon to be coffin. He placed a hand on the top of the cell and smiled sadly. Raphael wasn't going to make it in time, but he was fine with that. He knew Donatello and Michelangelo had been rescued in time, and that gave him a content sort of peace as he slowly died.

_I'm sorry I was so hard on you, Raph,_ Leonardo silently apologized to his hot-headed brother. _Keep an eye out for Mike and Don, they'll be looking up to you now as their new leader. Don't blame yourself for my death, I know you tried your best. Mike, Don, don't give Raph too much of a hard time and look out for each other. And, Master Splinter, I'm sorry I won't be there when you get back home. Raph's going to need guidance, since he'll be looking out for Don and Mike, now._ His eyes drifted closed as the last of his air left his lungs. _I love you all, it was an… honor..._

His hand fell and his body began to thrash as he fought off the last, violent urging to take a breath. Final he body gave up the fight and took in a watery breathe that quickly filled his lungs. His body convulsed violently before it went slowly went limp as the life left his body.

* * *

In his small dark room, Alfredson watched as the life drained out of Leonardo's body.

His eyes drifted to a screen that showed the Battle Shell racing towards Inwood Hill Park; only a few minutes away but still far too late to save their brother from his demise.

The Grim Reaper laughed in dark triumph as he got up from his seat and turned off the monitors. He made his way over to the door, grabbing his jacket on the way out. He had to make sure Leonardo remained dead.

"You're too late, Red," he crowed in triumph to the empty room. "Now, live in eternal despair."

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me, and for also doing a fantastic job on the ending of this chapter. You guys truly rock :)

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Raphael pulled up to the pond in Inwood Hill Park, and scrambled out of the van. Donatello and Michelangelo were right behind him. The brothers once again split up in search of any clue as to where Leonardo could be buried.

Raphael went up to the pond and searched the water to see if he could see the last glass coffin. When he failed to see anything, he looked around at the trees nearby. His heart dropped when he saw a note stuck to a tree at the pond's edge. Raphael made his way over to the tree, his heart hammering painfully in his chest as he ripped the paper off the tree. He unfolded the note and read the riddle.

_I'm light as a feather, Yet the strongest man can't hold me for much more than a minute. _

_What am I?_

Raphael felt his world shatter. There was no way...It wasn't possible. How could he have failed? Raphael was so in shock that he didn't notice Donatello and Michelangelo run up behind him. Donatello read the riddle and his eyes widened in horror. Michelangelo looked from Raphael to Donatello and then back to Raphael.

"What?" he asked. "What is it?"

Raphael held up the paper and Michelangelo took it. The youngest read the riddle and frowned. He looked up to his brothers for the answer.

"What's the answer?" he questioned.

"It's breath, Mikey," Donatello answered his voice shaking in disbelief and horror. He looked over at his little brother, his eyes swimming in tears. "We're too late," he whispered miserably.

Before Michelangelo could even process what his older brother had told him, Raphael dove into the pond and swam as fast as he could to the bottom. He found the last and final coffin lying on the weedy bottom. He could just make out the shadowy form of his brother, floating just behind the glass. He couldn't tell if he was still alive or not, but by the way his brother's body was suspended, Raphael feared he was just that much too late. A bubble was suddenly released from his brother's slack mouth and floated lazily up to the roof of the coffin. Panic ripped through Raphael's body as he slammed the glass breaker against the side of the cell. The glass shattered and Raphael reached in, grabbing Leonardo's limp, lifeless arm. With his arm around his brother's chest, Raphael swam to the surface as fast as he could.

Donatello and Michelangelo were waiting up above when Raphael broke to the surface. He handed Leonardo over to his brothers and they pulled him to shore. Donatello instantly went into doctor mode and checked Leonardo's vitals. As he had feared, he found no pulse and no breath coming from Leonardo's mouth or nose; his eldest brother's skin was a sickly shade of blue-green.

"Don't just sit there, Donny, do somethin'!" Raphael barked, pulling himself up to where his brothers were kneeling, looking down at Leonardo with helpless devastation.

Donatello turned to look at him, his eyes filling with tears, his voice full of anguish and frustration. "What do you want me to do, Raph? Leo's gone."

Raphael made his way over to where Donatello was kneeling and pushed him to the side. He linked his fingers together and began doing chest compressions.

"Raph, what are you doing?!" Donatello cried as he watched Raphael trying to revive their deceased older brother.

"Leo ain't dead," Raphael ground out through clenched teeth, his eyes full of pain and grief.

"Raph..." Donatello began softly, touching his brother's leg gently. Raphael flinched, but remained focused on his impossible task.

"He ain't DEAD, Donny," Raph grounded out between clenched teeth. "I ain't gonna let Alfredson win! I couldn't have been too late…I can't be." Raphael choked out as he knelt down and blew a puff of air into Leonardo's slack mouth.

Donatello nodded solemnly, knowing that Raphael had to try. His eyes strayed to his hand which was covered in blood. His eyes widened in shock as his eyes flew to his brother's leg, swathed in bloody bandages.

"Raph, what happened to your legs?" Donatello asked in alarm.

"Doesn't matter," Raphael grunted as he continued with the compressions.

He paused in the compressions and, to Donatello's distress, slammed his fist into Leonardo's chest hard.

"Raph, what are you doing?!" Donatello cried out in horror, when he heard the unmistakable cracking of ribs.

"Don't ya dare die, Leo!" Raphael yelled at his sword wielding sibling. "You still have to yell at me for startin' that fight and for hurting you." He continued to slam his fist into Leonardo's chest, against Donatello's protests for him to stop. "You're not going to let that Alfredson creep win, are ya? You'd better not, Leo."

He raised his fist to bring it down again, but Donatello's grabbed his wrist. "Raph, stop it! It's over. Leo's gone, there's nothing we can do," the bo wielder pleaded tearfully, his voice lowering with each word. "Let him go…We need to get you looked at. You're bleeding pretty bad," he insisted quietly.

Raphael shook his head in denial and jerked his wrist out of Donatello's grasp and went back to doing chest compressions. Michelangelo and Donatello looked at each other; both knowing that trying to tell Raphael that it was hopeless was just a waste of breath.

"I'll never forgive you if you die, Leo. You hear me?!" Raphael yelled as tears streamed silently down his face.

Leonardo's body suddenly jerked and he began to cough weakly. Before shock could set in, Donatello pushed Raphael to the side and pulled Leonardo into the recovery position. Water poured out of Leonardo's mouth as he continued to violently cough and gasp for air. After a few minutes, his harsh coughing began to subside and he took a few deep, wheezing breaths. Raphael took up a position at Leonardo's head as Donatello stayed by his side. Michelangelo rubbed Leonardo's shell soothingly. Leonardo opened his eyes and turned over slightly so that he was looking up at Raphael's tear stained face.

"Hey," Raphael said softly, his voice betraying his emotions.

"Hey," Leonardo whispered. "Glad you could make it."

Raphael smirked slightly. "You would do the same for me."

Leonardo noticed the bandages around his brother's legs. He frowned. "What happened to your legs?" he asked anxiously.

Raphael opened his mouth to speak, but there was the sharp crack of a gunshot. Raphael cried out in pain as something grazed the skin of his shoulder. The air rang with a gunshot. Raphael put a hand to the wound and swung around, golden eyes burning in anger and pain.

A seething Alfredson stood a few feet away with a gun pointed straight at Raphael's head.

Donatello moved to get between his brother and the lethally armed human, but Raphael pushed him back and shook his head firmly.

"Get Leo into the Battle Shell, you too Mikey," the red masked turtle instructed under his breath. "This is between me and him."

"You turtles have become the curse of my life," Alfredson sneered as he cocked the gun again. "You were never meant to get this far! Why won't you just die?!"

Raphael slowly got to his feet and stood between the Grim Reaper and his brothers, using his body as a shield. Donatello and Michelangelo lifted Leonardo up carefully and got him safely inside the Battle Shell then closed the doors.

Raphael pulled out his sais and spun them once before getting into a defensive position.

"We're the curse of many a scumbag human's life," the red masked turtle replied with a low growl. "You're no exception. Just one more scumbag that we gotta clean off the streets."

He threw himself to the ground when Alfredson fired off the gun again. The bullet grazed Raphael's carapace as it flew over his head. Inside the Battle Shell, it was all Michelangelo could do not to charge out and help his brother. He turned to see Donatello deliberately making himself busy so that he wouldn't go charging out into the fray, even though the sound of the gunshots was clearly wearing on his already frayed nerves.

"Raph...needs help," Leonardo panted, trying to push himself up off the floor of the van.

Donatello gently pushed him back to the floor. "You're not going anywhere, Leo. You were clinically dead for several minutes, you're not going anywhere. It's a miracle that you've recovered so much as is, and didn't suffer brain damage."

"But...Raph-" Leonardo started to argue.

"Can handle himself," Donatello cut in firmly.

"Besides, it's Raph," Michelangelo added, trying to make his words sound comforting and nonchalant. "He can take on Alfredson with one hand tied-"

Another whip-like crack of a gun tore through the grunts and snarls of physical combat outside, cutting Michelangelo off.

Michelangelo swallowed down his growing horror, of the now frighteningly quiet outside. He looked at Leonardo who was pale, and shivering with cold and pain, his breathing sounding more like strained wheezing than healthy breathing. Donatello also looked pale, and worried, his eyes hidden in shadow, but Michelangelo managed to catch the faint gleam of terror and fear in his eyes.

He looked back at the door, his shaking hand reaching out to slide it open. He just couldn't take the silence, the uncertainty that hung thick in the muggy air of the van any longer. The door handle slid from his grasp as it was suddenly wrenched quickly open.

Michelangelo stared down into the smoking barrel of the revolver that was held mere inches away from his beak. He looked at the gun in horror, fear shooting a lightning blaze of adrenalin pumping through his body. His heartbeat pounded in his ears so loudly, that he almost missed Alfredson's silky, smug, gloating words.

Michelangelo stared at Alfredson with something akin to shock. Alfredson had a cut lip and was bleeding from a cut above his left eyebrow, a dark bruise forming on his left jaw. He smiled slowly; it was manic, gruesome and feral. His eyes burned with hatred, but also contained the self-satisfied satisfaction of victory.

"One brother down, only three to go. Though it doesn't really seem fair does it? It's rather like shooting fish in a barrel. Though I do enjoy playing with my victims and tormenting them, you have managed to survive one too many times, and so I will make this exception only once." He cocked the gun and Michelangelo processed the fact that Alfredson had killed Raphael and that in a moment, he and his brother's would be dead as well, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The gun fired, a streak of red flashed before Michelangelo's eyes and it took a moment to realize that he hadn't been hit by the deadly bullet. Instead Raphael had launched himself at Alfredson, knocking him to the ground the bullet shot harmlessly into the air.

Leonardo pushed Donatello away, sitting up and dragging himself to the doorway. He could see Raphael and Alfedson rolling on the ground. Alfredson lay with Raphael positioned over his chest, hands wrapped around his neck. The gun lay nearby on the ground, either discarded or dropped. Raphael's sais also lay nearby, the two enemies fighting with their bare hands.

Alfredson drove his hands into Raphael's injured legs. Raphael roared in pain as Alfredson managed to kick Raphael off. Alfredson punched Raphael in the leg again. Leonardo moved forward, intent on helping their fighting brother who was just knocked to the ground. Michelangelo and Donatello both grabbed onto his shoulders, and in his weakened state, he couldn't pull out of their grips. Instead all three of them looked on silently. Alfredson scrambling to get the upper hand, punching Raphael in the face a few times as Alfredson's head whipped around from side to side in search of his gun.

Raphael roared in anger and twisted sending Alfredson rolling to the ground. Alfredson's hand lashed out, his fingers closing around the handle of his gun. Leonardo's heart clenched painfully in his chest. He called out Raphael's name in warning.

Raphael was already launching himself at Alfredson, tackling him before he was able to get off a shot. Alfredson's angry, burning gaze locked onto Raphael's golden ones, both freezing in a momentarily stunned tableau. Blood bubbled up from between Alfredson's lips as his shocked gaze met Raphael's, looking down as Raphael moved, his sai sticking out from between Alfredson's chest.

Alfredson's eyes slid closed as Raphael tore his sai from Alfredson's limp body. Raphael stumbled back nearly collapsing to the ground as he waved away their concerned voices, as he made his way slowly to the van.

Donatello leapt out; intent on helping Raphael into the van but Raphael just growled and said he didn't need any help.

Donatello bit his lip but nodded, climbing back into the van, quickly tearing open various packages of medical supplies. "Mikey, get up front we need to get out of here," he told his baby brother as he tore open the packaging for an IV tube.

Leonardo reached out a hand to help Raphael into the van as Donatello slid forward as well. One of Raph's feet was balanced on the edge of the bumper to step into the van when there was a movement behind Raphael.

"Hey, Red...Don't you know, the Grim Reaper...always...wins," Alfredson choked out as the roar of a gun shattered the stillness of the night.

Blood spatter hit Leonardo across his chest and the side of his face as Raphael's eyes widened in surprise and shock as bright crimson blossomed across Raphael's chest. Raphael's eyes slid closed as he fell limply into Donatello's arms.

Leonardo felt as if he was looking at the world through a long dark tunnel. He could hear Donatello and Michelangelo's frantic calls to Raphael, but they sounded far away. Leonardo reached up a shaking hand and wiped his brother's still warm blood away from his cheek. He stared at it in shock for a moment, his heart hammering painfully in his chest, his blood rushing through his ears, drowning out everything that was going on around him. He felt his eyes close on their own as his world went dark.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Leonardo bolted straight up in bed, eyes wide and gasping for breath. He looked around, finding himself in his bedroom instead of the park. He looked around in confusion, as if he wasn't able to remember how he had gotten into his room, or why he was in his room to begin with. Memories came crashing back into him. His skin began to tingle uncomfortably as a surge of adrenalin rushed through his body. He took a deep breath, for a moment believing that perhaps he had dreamt the entire episode with the Grimm Reaper. His breath exited his lungs in a whoosh of air.

His telltale mask did not cover his eyes.

Their capture by Alfredson had not been a dream, just a waking nightmare that he hadn't been able to wake up from. He had survived, though barely but...

His heart clenched with unbearable grief. He looked down at his hands and chest, cleansed free of his brother's blood. He remembered Raphael had been shot, his life blood splattered across his face and chest.

He swallowed, a sudden heartening thought crossing his mind.

_Maybe Raph had managed to survive also._

This thought couldn't be dispelled from his head as he threw the covers back and ran for his door. He refused to believe that Alfredson had managed to kill Raphael. He refused to believe that it could have ended that way; Raphael saving them, but being killed in the process.

He had to know what happened to Raphael. Leonardo quickly made his way downstairs and headed straight for the infirmary.

He looked around his eyes finally falling upon a motionless Raphael, lying on a cot, a white sheet pulled up to his chin.

His heart rose and them plummeted, all within the space of a few seconds. Raphael had been shot in the chest. If his brother was still alive, he should have been hooked up to machines; ventilators, heart monitors, and Donatello and Michelangelo would be hovering around him like worried hens. Instead the infirmary was empty, and there were no machines, no evidence of surgery, nothing to indicate that Raphael had come home alive.

Leonardo let out a choked sob of grief, nearly falling to his knees, but somehow holding himself up enough to stumble over to his brother's corpse. There was a chair pulled up next to the cot, his legs giving way so that he fell into the seat. He looked over at his brother. He lay so still and looked so peaceful. Raphael always tended to be so loud and filled with life, that seeing him lying on the cot -almost as if he were only sleeping- filled Leonardo with such a sense of loss and guilt that he nearly doubled over with the pain of it.

"I'm sorry, Raph." He choked out as tears silently began to stream down his face. "I should have… I should have tried to help. I should have gotten out of the van, and killed Alfredson myself." He bit out, the words bitter and filled with regret.

His brother had risked everything to save them- and he had- his reward, a bullet in the back from their enemy.

His mind flew back to their fight, and Leonardo's excessive pride. If he had just told his brother's the truth -that he hadn't been well enough to continue on with patrol that night- maybe none of this would have happened. And then Raphael wouldn't have given his life to save them, and Leonardo's last words to his brother wouldn't have been in anger and resentful.

Leonardo closed his eyes in shame as he replayed their fight in his head over and over again. He then tormented himself further by replaying Raphael's death, over and over again, and then each time, trying to prevent it by changing his actions, and managing to save his hot-headed brother's life. But no matter what he _could_ have done, none of it mattered because he _hadn't_ done anything.

Leonardo reached out and touched Raphael's cool, bruised and battered cheek. He tried to comfort himself by telling himself that Raphael was in a better place now; that no one could ever hurt him again. And yet these thoughts gave him no comfort, because he was selfish enough not to care about that. He wanted his younger brother back, alive and well and being a pain in his shell.

Leonardo let out another sob of grief as he shook his head back and forth in denial. He then swallowed down the lump of sorrow that constricted his throat and began to talk. He brushed his thumb across his brother's forehead and plastered a fake smile on his face. "You did good, Raph." He said softly. "You save us, all of us, even me. You didn't give up. I have no idea what you went through to save us, but I don't doubt that you probably went through hell to do it. You may even have surprised yourself." Leonardo almost smiled genuinely then, knowing Alfredson's love of riddles and tormenting of the victims family. "But you won. In the end you won, and Alfredson can never hurt anyone again. You killed the Grim Reaper. And I think that you would even be okay with the fact that you didn't manage to survive. You would probably say that you were 'living on borrowed time anyway' or 'at least I got the jerk' or 'whatever, I died after him, I still win' or even 'if there was one of us that had to go, it should be me' but…but…I… I'm not okay with losing you." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you make sure he was dead?" he asked, suddenly angry at his brother for leaving Alfredson alive, twice, even though it had been on his orders to leave Alfredson alive after their last encounter with him.

Leonardo wiped away his tears, and bowed his head, closing his eyes. He took a deep, calming breath, trying to pull the tattered remains of his sanity together. He was going to have to be strong for his remaining younger siblings -and for his father and their friends who would need to be told the devastating news.

Leonardo stood; his legs shaky. "Thank you, Raph." He whispered as he touched his brother's cheek one last time. "I love you." He pulled his hand away and turned, intending to leave the room.

"Hey, Leo, you mind shutting it, some of us are tryin' to sleep." Raphael's irritated voice grumbled.

Leonardo's head whipped around fast enough to give him whiplash. Raphael lay exactly as he had been, still and unmoving. His brother suddenly tipped his head to the side opening one golden eye, before his eye closed again, his head returning to it's previous position.

His vision wavered slightly as his knees threatened to give way. He shook his head wondering if he had imagined Raphael speaking and moving. It was possible that he had received some sort of brain damage while he had been dead and now he was hallucinating.

He stumbled over to his brother's cot, laying his head gently on Raphael's chest seeing if he could hear a heartbeat, or notice his brother breathing.

"I ain't dead, Fearless, but I'm pretty sure you're gonna bore me to death if you keep talkin' , so hows about you go away so I can sleep." Raphael growled in irritation.

Leonardo's face broke into a wide, elated grin. Tear of happiness filled his eyes as he squeezed his brother in a tight embrace.

Raphael let out a yelp of pain, immediately Leonardo let go.

"What's going on?" Donatello asked as he ran into the room. "Leo? What are you doing out of bed?" Donatello asked as he strode over to Raphael pulling back the sheet and inspecting the swath of bandages that were wrapped around his chest and upper shoulder.

Leonardo swallowed down his horror as he stared at his brother's injury. His eyes flew to Raphael who wore a scowl on his face, eyes open and tinged with irritation.

"Leo's tryin' to kill me, that's what's goin' on. Apparently the Grim Reaper didn't do a good enough job." Raphael growled as he winced in pain, Donatello prodding at his shoulder.

Donatello frowned at Leonardo, waiting for an answer. "I thought…I thought Alfredson had killed Raph." He answered softly his mind spinning. "I saw him lying here, and he wasn't hooked up to any machines…I saw him get shot, Donny," he defended in confusion.

Michelangelo chose that moment to walk into the room, a tray of broth, plain toast and a glass of water in his hands.

"Hey, Leo, you're awake." Michelangelo said happily as he placed the tray down on the table beside Raphael.

"Mikey, I told you, if you ain't gonna bring me real food, to not bother bringin' me anything." Raphael complained as Donatello helped him to sit up, adjusting his pillows so he could do so comfortably.

"He was shot in the shoulder, but with the angle he was shot at the bullet exited out his plastron, skimming his ribs, but missing all internal organs." Donatello explained as he sat the tray over Raphael's lap. "Of course he also had other injuries, including several lacerations and hairline fractures to his legs from being hit by a car." He grumbled. "But if he takes it easy he will make a full recovery." Donatello said as he shot a glare at Raphael, who ignored their medic brother.

Leonardo felt his shoulders sag with relief.

"You've been sleeping for three days straight." Michelangelo said as he lifted up the spoon for the broth and tried to get Raphael to eat a bite, going so far as to make airplane noises, much to Raphael's continued irritation.

Michelangelo's words explained why Raphael was recovering, already having had Donatello's medical care days before.

Donatello looked at Leonardo, walking around Raphael's cot and motioning for him to seat in the seat he had just vacated. "The previous injuries you received during your previous encounter with Alfredson, coupled with your recent traumas and your cracked ribs is why you slept for so long," Donatello answered matter-o-factly as he checked Leonardo's vitals after he had taken a seat.

Raphael reluctantly ate several spoonfuls of broth before waving the rest of the food away.

Donatello finished his check-up and nodded his head, pleased with what he saw. "Don't tire him out." Donatello warned as he gently squeezed Leonardo's shoulder, and motioned with his head to leave the two older siblings in the infirmary alone.

Michelangelo picked up the tray and exited the room. Donatello stopped and threw over his shoulder. "You too, Leo, you need your rest as well." He warned as he exited the room.

Leonardo turned his head back to Raphael. "I thought you were dead," he muttered under his breath so low that Raphael almost missed it. "But you're alive," he whispered, his voice still filled with shock and awe.

Raphael gave a snort. "Sorry to disappoint ya, Fearless," he said with a slight smile, followed closely by a pained wince.

Leonardo didn't even glare at his brother's jab, too relieved that Raphael was alive to care what his brother said. He swallowed and looked at his brother seriously, wanting him to answer a few questions before he left him so that they could both get some rest.

"What happened after you pulled me out of the coffin?" he asked softly.

Raphael grimaced at the memory as he shifted into a more comfortable position. "Donny pronounced you dead at the scene, I told him that you weren't dead and started doing chest compressions. 'Course I think I did more pounding than compressing."

Leonardo rubbed his chest, still feeling the dull aching throb. "So, that's why my chest hurts," he grumbled, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Raphael chuckled, but coughed slightly. "Yeah, but it got you back."

"Yeah, it did," Leonardo replied gratefully.

Raphael smirked, but it fell from his face again. "You came back, but so did the Reaper. (Of course, you saw what happened, up until you apparently fainted when I was shot," Raphael said seriously, not even smiling over the fact that Leonardo had fainted. Instead his face was grim, almost haunted. Raphael blinked and shook his head slightly. "But I got him," he told Leonardo softly, avoiding Leonardo's eyes.

Leonardo was surprised by the sudden change in his brother's behaviour. He shifted in the chair and leaned over.

"So…Alfredson is really gone?" he asked, hoping that the Grim Reaper hadn't played possum again.

Raphael closed his eyes, and nodded, still avoiding Leonardo's eyes. "Yeah. Mikey and Donny saw it on the news. Took 'em a bit to figure out who they found dead by the pond, but apparently once they did, no one was really too upset. Though they are still grudgingly tryin' to find out who killed him. We done talkin', Leo, I'm kinda tired," Raphael said as he slid down in his cot, trying to adjust his pillows, gnashing his teeth in pain for his troubles. Leonardo leapt to his feet to help. Raphael turned away slightly.

Leonardo stood back. "I'll let you get some rest." He said quietly as he turned to leave the room.

"Hey, Leo," Raphael's voice was soft almost inaudible. "I love you too, Bro."

Leonardo smiled and left the room, a frown forming on his face at Raphael's sudden shift in mood. He walked to the living room where he found his two younger brothers watching some TV.

"Donny, is Raph really going to be okay?" He asked in worry.

Donatello sighed and turned his full attention to Leo. "He'll make a full physical recover," he stated succinctly. "As for his mental recovery…that may take longer."

Michelangelo looked down at the ground, his face filling with grim worry.

"Alfredson's body was found in Inwood Hill Park," he explained. Leonardo nodding having already heard this information from Raphael. "Cause of death was a stab wound to the gut."

Leonardo frowned, knowing that Raphael had killed Alfredson and not understanding why Raphael's mental health would be…Sickening realization filled him. Leonardo put a hand over his mouth as his eyes began to widen. Now he understood Raphael's sudden behaviour change.

He had _killed_ someone. Even if it was Alfredson, Raphael had still taken his first life.

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Reviews are welcome. Flames are not


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N**: Thank you so very very much to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. You guys are awesome beyond words. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed, I'm glad you're all enjoying the story.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Splinter walked into a silent lair. His ears twitched forward, trying to pick up some noise or sound that told him his sons were home. However, all he heard was the humming of the fridge and the whirl of Donatello's numerous computers. The ninja master went to his room and placed his travelling bag on his bed before going out to the main hall again. He opened his mouth to call to his sons when Leonardo suddenly appeared from his room.

Splinter saw joy and relief flood his eldest son's eyes as the blue masked turtle hurried down the stairs towards him. He abruptly stopped in front of his father and bowed respectfully. Splinter returned the formal bow, but when he straightened he was pulled into a tight hug. Leonardo held his father close, breathing in the scent of the fragrance that Splinter burned while meditating. The sweet scent still clung to Splinter's robes; it was a scent Leonardo had always loved.

"Leonardo? Are you all right?" Splinter asked in concern, placing a hand on his son's shell.

"I am now, Sensei," Leonardo whispered in reply. He tightened his grip around Splinter, being careful not to squeeze too tightly. "I just...really missed you, that's all."

Splinter hummed in thought. "I have missed you too, my son," he answered. He managed to free himself of his son's gentle grip and took a step back to study his student. His eyes landed on the neatly wrapped white bandage around Leonardo's right arm. "Leonardo, what happened to your arm?"

Leonardo looked down at his arm and sighed as he wrapped a hand around his wrist. "Me and Raph got into a fight," he replied slowly. He looked up to see the worry in his teacher's eyes. "But, everything's fine now," his son added quickly. "So, you don't have to worry."

Splinter gave him a disbelieving look. Leonardo looked down at the floor and swallowed hard. Splinter's ears twitched again and he looked up to see Donatello and Michelangelo bounding down the stairs. They hurried over to him and they both embraced him in the same tight but gentle hug that Leonardo had given him. Now, he knew something was wrong. When they were kids they would always hold on to him tightly whenever they were scared.

"My sons, what has happened since I left you?" Splinter asked when Donatello and Michelangelo released him. "Other than Leonardo and Raphael getting into a fight."

The brothers glanced at each other and looked anywhere but their father. Splinter's tail began to sway back and forth, a sure sign that he was losing his patience. The youngest siblings turned to face the eldest, eyes pleading. Leonardo sighed in defeat and tapped his fingers together in a nervous manner.

"We were attacked by the Grim Reaper again," he said in a strained voice.

Splinter's ears fell back against his head as his eyes slowly widened in terror. For the second time he had not been there when his sons needed him the most. Leonardo noticed the look on his father's face and his winced inwardly.

"Raph got to us in time, Sensei," the leader said quickly.

"But so did the Reaper," Michelangelo muttered under his breath.

Splinter turned his attention to his youngest son while Leonardo and Donatello glared at him. Michelangelo shrank away under his family's stares.

"Explain," Splinter instructed firmly but gently.

Michelangelo swallowed and looked down at the floor. "Raph got me and Donny out fine, but when we were getting Leo, the Reaper showed up and shot at Raph, grazing him in the arm. He started yelling about how Raph was never meant to find us in time and that we all needed to die." He paused and shifted on his feet nervously. "Raph told me and Don to get Leo into the Battle Shell, so we did. We heard fighting and yelling and then...Raph...The Reaper was dying and he shot Raph..." Michelangelo trailed off as his eyes began to fill with tears and his throat began to burn.

Splinter's heart filled with unbridled horror and anguish grief. "Where is Raphael, now?" he asked carefully, fearing the answer.

The three brothers turned to look at Raphael's bedroom door. Splinter felt his heart unclench with relief. His son was alive, and had survived his encounter with the Grim Reaper once again.

Without saying a word, Splinter hurried up to his son's room and knocked on the door. When he didn't receive an answer, Splinter turned the handle and carefully pushed the door open. In the far corner sat Raphael, his back facing the rest of the room. Splinter stepped into the room and closed the door again. He slowly made his way over to his son and knelt down behind him. In the dim light he could see bandages wrapped around Raphael's upper right arm, his upper torso, as well as his lower legs. Splinter leaned to the side and saw that Raphael was staring down at his sais which lay in front of him on the floor.

"Raphael?" Splinter spoke softly.

Raphael stiffened at the sound of his father's voice. He took a quick, shaky breath and it was clear that he had been crying.

"Raphael, what happened?" Splinter asked soothingly.

It was a long time before Raphael even considered answering. When he managed to get his shaky breathing under control, he answered. "I'm a murderer," he whispered guiltily.

Splinter frowned in confusion. "Why do you say that?" he asked.

Raphael hung his head in shame and guilt. "I killed him, Sensei." His voice was hoarse from crying.

"Killed who?" Splinter questioned.

"Alfredson," Raphael replied wretchedly. "I...I..." His voice broke as his body began to shake with uncontrollable sobs.

Splinter reached over and wrapped his arms around his son. Raphael turned around and buried his face in Splinter's shoulder. The ninja master rubbed his son's shell soothingly.

"You did what you had to do, my son," Splinter whispered.

"I killed someone, sensei," Raphael sobbed.

"Someone who has been trying to kill you," Splinter pointed out. "You did what you had to do. If you had not killed him, he would have killed you and all of your brothers."

Raphael's sobs became more violent. "He did almost kill them, Master Splinter," he cried. "He almost killed my brothers."

Outside, Leonardo, Donatello and Michelangelo looked at each other with miserable expressions. It was unnerving to hear their hot-headed brother in such a vulnerable state. They didn't know what Raphael had gone through while trying to find them, and they would probably never know since Raphael didn't talk about what was bothering him. The brothers leaned in closer, trying to hear what was being said.

"I was scared, sensei," Raphael sobbed. "I was terrified I would never see them alive again."

"I know, my son," Splinter whispered softly. "However, you did find them in time."

Raphael took in a quick, shaky breath. "I thought I would find them and they would already be dead."

Splinter held his son close to his chest. "It was the trick of the Grim Reaper. He wanted your spirit to be broken."

Raphael continued to sob into his father's chest, allowing every wall and barrier he had constructed over the years to mask his emotions to simply crumble and collapse.

Splinter never let go of his son, rubbing his shell and telling him that the nightmare was finally over, and that his brothers were safe because of him. After a while, Raphael's sobs subsided as he cried himself to sleep; the exhaustion of the last few days finally taking its toll.

Splinter smiled down at his sleeping son. His ears twitched when he heard the sound of the door quietly opening. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at his other sons.

"Is he going to be okay, Master Splinter?" Michelangelo whispered softly.

Splinter turned back to Raphael and brushed his mask tails off of his shoulder. "Yes, Michelangelo," he replied quietly. "In time he will be."

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Reviews are welcome. Flames are not.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N**: I'm sad to say that this is the last chapter. It's been fun and I'm glad you all have enjoyed the story. A very very big thank you to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me, and thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. You guys are awesome!

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

_Tires screeched to a stop as the Battle Shell came to a grinding halt beside the pond in Inwood Hill Park. The driver's side door __burst __open__ and a frantic Raphael jumped out of the van__,__ making__ a mad dash for the cold, dark water __in front of him__. Without a second thought he dove into the __frigid__ water and swam for the bottom. When he reached the bottom Raphael found __nothing but__ an empty __glass__ coffin. With his heart racing__ with panic__, Raphael swam for the surface again._

_Raphael__'s head broke__ the surface of the water __with a loud whoosh; his feet sinking into the soft mud as he stumbled up onto__ solid ground. He rubbed his arms to try to warm himself up as the cool air blew over his wet skin. Raphael f__rantically__ looked around for any sign or clue as to where his __older__ brother was being __held__. __He reasoned that if Leonardo__ wasn't in the coffin__,__ then the Grim Reaper must have moved him somewhere else. However, the more he thought about it, the more __he__ knew that it wasn't in the Grim Reaper's nature to move his victims once they were buried._

_"Well, isn't this a fine mess you've gotten yourself into," a hauntingly familiar voice __drawled__, breaking the eerie__, suffocating silence__ of the park._

_Raphael froze, his __heart hammering painfully against his ribs.__ He slowly turned his head and his breath caught in his throat. Alfredson stood a few feet away, leaning __negligently__ up against a tree. An oozing, __bloody__ hole was fixed almost in the center of his chest. Raphael instinctively took a step away from what he knew to be a ghost. Alfredson smirked and looked down at the hole in his chest before looking back up at Raphael._

_"What? This?" t__he__ human asked, pulling his shirt away from the wound, making it ooze blood even more. "This shouldn't bother __you;__ after all__,__ you're the one who __inflicted__ it."_

_Raphael shook his head __in denial__. "I didn't mean to," he whispered __hoarsely__. "It was self-defense."_

_"Of course it was, Red," Alfredson agreed. He tsked and gave Raphael a disappointed look. "But you still committed murder." He hummed thoughtfully. "What will your brothers think when they find out?" t__he__ serial killer asked. "Oh that's right. You're still looking for Leonardo, aren't you?"_

_"Where is he?" Raphael demanded._

_Alfredson shrugged dismissively. "He could be anywhere. Once __the victims die__, the fun immediately stops. I dig them back up and drop them where I snatched them __from__." __Alfredson__ flinched involuntarily when a sai suddenly slammed into the tree above his head._

_"Where is he?!" Raphael roared._

_Alfredson reached up and pulled the sai out of the __wood__. "That's not how it works, __Red__," he said __in a deadly calm and icy voice__. "I take them, you find them. Dead or alive, it doesn't matter, the rules stay the same."_

_Raphael stalked over to Alfredson, pulling his other sai out of his belt in the process. The human laughed __mockingly__._

_"What are you going to do, Red? Stab me? You've already done that__, remember?__" Alfredson pointed out. "What do you think your brothers are going to say when they find out __that__ you killed someone?"_

_Raphael stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at the oozing wound in Alfredson's chest and __felt__ his stomach __churn with unexpected nausea__. What would the others think of him when they found out? He was a murderer; a cold blooded killer. Self-defense was no excuse for what he had done. Raphael looked down at his hands to find them stained __dark__ with blood__, Alfredson's blood__. He __had__ never thought twice about driving his sai into Alfredson's chest._

_"Raphie is a murderer. Raphie is a murderer…__ " Alfredson sang with __taunting__, sickening glee. __Raphael looked up at him with wide, fearful amber eyes. "Oh, don't give me that look, Red," Alfredson __sneered in exasperation__. "We both know you enjoyed it__; watching__ the life fade from someone's eyes__ and__ feeling their body go limp in your arms." The Grim Reaper walked forward and __placed__ a hand on Raphael's shoulder. "You've become more like me in the last twelve hours than you realize, Red. I saw it in your eyes __as my life drained away. You wanted to kill again because it felt so good. For the first time in your miserable life, you finally felt alive, so much so that you know it will hurt not to do it again."_

_Raphael __felt the bile rise up in his throat and__ turned away, __shaking__ his head in defiance. "I'm nothing like you," he __snarled viciously._

_Alfredson put a hand under Raphael's chin and __pulled his head back__ so that they were looking eye to eye. "You've got the taste for blood now, Raphael. It's only a matter of time before you kill again. And next time, it won't be in self-defense. __Maybe__ it will __even __be someone who deserves it__;__ perhaps a Foot ninja or a Purple Dragon__. Of course, it is possible that you will lose control of your temper and kill one of your brothers in your mindless rage. Either way,__ the temptation will be there and you will give in to it." Alfredson grinned darkly. "You're a natural born killer, Raphael."_

_Raphael heard a soft moan that drifted around him. This moan was echoed by another, and followed by another after that. Raphael looked around, before looking down at his feet. His eyes widen in horror when he realized he was standing upon the mangled bodies of faceless Purple Dragons and Foot soldiers. Raphael felt horror fill him, turning into cold terror when he stared into the unseeing, glassy eyes of Leonardo; a sai plunged straight through his heart, the look of betrayal and hurt frozen forever on his face._

Raphael gasped sharply and shot up in bed; eyes wide with horror and fear. He panted for breath as he looked around in confusion only to realize that he was in his bedroom. He put a hand over the bandages that still covered his body and hung his head. Raphael squeezed his eyes tightly as he felt tears begin to burn his eyes. He didn't want to believe a word Alfredson had said, but deep down he knew the words to be true. It was only a matter of time before he shed blood again, and next time it wouldn't be in self-defense; it would be out of anger, or worse…need. Raphael looked up when he heard the door creak open and he saw a blue masked face peek around the corner.

"Raph? You awake?" Leonardo whispered.

"Yeah, Leo, come on in," Raphael replied tightly.

Leonardo opened the door a bit more and stepped inside the room. He closed the door behind him and walked over to his brother's hammock.

"Couldn't sleep?" Raphael asked.

"Apparently coming back from the dead really messes with your head," Leonardo replied softly.

Raphael couldn't help but smile faintly at the light joke. Leonardo tilted his head slightly and studied his brother's face. In the darkness he could see something was eating at his red masked sibling.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" Leonardo asked searchingly.

Raphael instantly shook his head. "Nah," he answered. "It's nothin' you have to worry about, Fearless."

Leonardo looked down at the floor and shifted on his feet. "Raph," he started carefully. "I know about Alfredson."

Raphael visibly flinched as if he had been struck. Disownment was probably the least he deserved at the moment for his crime.

"I just wanted to say..." Leonardo paused and took a deep breath. "Thank you."

Raphael looked up at his brother, shock and confusion lighting his eyes. "Come again?"

"Thank you," Leonardo repeated louder. "You saved our lives, Raph, and countless others."

"Leo, I...I _killed_ someone," Raphael hissed angrily. "And you're just gonna act like it was nothing?"

Leonardo swallowed. "I'm not acting like it was nothing, Raph. There's a difference between self-defense and cold blooded murder. From what I heard from Mikey and Donny, it was either kill or be killed. You weren't just fighting for your own life, Raph, you were fighting for hundreds of others…including ours."

"It still doesn't justify what I did," Raphael said, looking away from his brother. "I have the blood of another person on my hands, Leo. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Leonardo took a breath and held it for a moment. "Actually...I do," he answered, his voice barely above a breathless whisper.

Raphael glanced up at Leonardo again. "What?" he asked in stunned shock.

"Raph, I..." Leonardo trailed off as his eyes began to burn with tears. He took a deep, calming breath before speaking again. "I know what it feels like to shed blood, to…to take a life. It's something I'm not proud of, but it was either stop the threat or die; never being able to see my family and friends again."

"Who was it?" Raphael asked.

Leonardo reached up and wiped silent tears from his eyes. "A couple of Foot ninjas that ambushed me," he replied quietly. "But the weight upon me of what I had done was crushing. They might have had family and friends too; and I took them away from that forever. I still struggle with the memory of killing those men, but I had to forgive myself for it and move on. If not, it would just eat away at me until there was nothing left."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Raphael whispered.

Leonardo looked down at the floor. "Mostly because I was afraid of what you guys would think of me," he answered softly. "So, it became my burden to bear with only Master Splinter ever knowing the truth." He took another shaky breath and released it. "And I know this doesn't make things any easier, but I just wanted to let you know that you're not alone in dealing with this. I understand what you're going through; me Mike, Don and Sensei are more than willing to help you get through this as well. Always remember you're never alone."

Raphael nodded slowly. "Thanks, Leo," he said gratefully.

Leonardo smiled. "Anytime, Bro." He turned around and headed for the door.

"Leo?" Raphael's soft voice brought Leonardo to a stop. "Have you ever thought about taking another life again?"

Leonardo sighed and turned to face his brother again. "Yes, I have. But I know that if I do I'd be walking a path that would make me no better than the ones I took the life from. Killing is a poison, Raph. The more you drink the poison the harder it is to get it out of your system and the more it kills you inside." He tilted his head in a questioning manner. "Why do you ask?" Leonardo wanted to know.

Raphael shook his head dismissively. "Just wonderin'," he replied.

"Don't ever get used to killing, Raph," Leonardo warned. "I almost lost you to the Grim Reaper once; I don't want to have to go through that again."

"I ain't gonna go down that road, Leo," Raphael assured his brother. "I promise, ninja's honour."

Leonardo nodded in approval. "That's good to hear," he said. "Good night, Raph."

"G'night, Leo," Raphael replied tiredly.

Leonardo opened the door and disappeared into the hallway, closing the door gently behind him. Raphael lay back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. A strange sense of relief began to wash over him with the knowledge that his family and friends were safe from Alfredson grasp. Raphael turned over onto his side and closed his eyes as sleep began to take a hold of him again.

He would forever live with the guilt of taking a life, but it would also come with the knowledge that he rescued countless others from the pain and misery that he and his brothers had gone through.

He would sleep better at night knowing that this was one nightmare that they would never have to live through ever again.

* * *

That's all she wrote. Thanks again :)

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N**: Guess what? BONUS CHAPTER! Amonraphoenix managed to talk me into writing one more chapter. Hope you enjoy it :)

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Three weeks later...

_Raphael grunted as he hit a pile of boxes. He growled in annoyance and frustration as he pushed himself up __slightly__. He lifted a box from his head and glared up at Michelangelo who was grinning down at him._

_"Come on, Raph," the youngest said. "You can do better than that."_

_Raphael pulled himself up and threw the box to the ground. He pointed a finger at his brother. "You're goin' down, Mikey," he threatened._

_Michelangelo merely shrugged. "You've been tryin' to do take me down all night, Bro. You're never gonna get me."_

_Raphael charged at his brother, fingers curled into a fist. He swung his fist at Michelangelo's head. The youngest easily dodged the attack and countered with one of his own. Raphael was sent stumbling into the wall. _

_Michelangelo tsked and shook his head __disappointedly__. "You're getting sloppy, Raphie-boy," he commented, putting his hands on his hips._

_Raphael growled and swung around to face his brother again. "I'll show you 'sloppy'!" he __snarled__._

_Michelangelo took a __nervous __step back when he heard the anger in his brother's voice. Raphael came charging at him again. Michelangelo managed to dodge a couple of attacks, but one __finally managed to__ hit its mark and sent him flying into the wall. He rubbed his head and looked up when he heard __rapid__ footsteps pounding towards him. Michelangelo silently wished that Leonardo, Donatello and__ Splinter hadn't decided to pay April and Casey a visit.__ He__ needed help in calming Raphael down._

_"You think you're better than me?!" Raphael roared __furiously. __"Do you?!"_

_Michelangelo jumped to his feet and caught Raphael's wrists. "Calm down, Raph," he s__oothed__. "This was supposed to be a friendly __sparing match between brothers.__ I'm not trying to prove anything__," he insisted__._

_Raphael lashed out, forcing Michelangelo to counterattack again. Raphael slammed into a table, smashing it __to__ pieces. Michelangelo panted__, trying to get his breath back__ as he watched his brother groan in pain. Thinking that Raphael was down for good, Michelangelo turned and headed for __the kitchen to get a drink__. He heard the faint sound of metal scrapping against stone before a force suddenly slammed into his back, sending him s__prawling onto __the __floor. __He grunted when he hit the ground, __pain sending black waves of lightning across his vision as he__ looked up to see Raphael looming over him__. A __knee __was suddenly ground into__ his chest, pinning him to the floor__; crushing the breath from his lungs__. Michelangelo's eyes __darted__ to the pipe that was __fiercely__ gripped in Raphael's hand._

_"Raphie? What are you doing?" Michelangelo asked __slowly__, his voice shaking __with fear. __His eyes widened in horror and __terror __as Raphael lifted the pipe over his head. "Raph!" he __cried __in desperation. __"Wait! Wait!"_

_There was the sickening __thunking and cracking __sound __as __metal __pulverizing__ bone __and flesh..._

Raphael bolted straight up in bed, a horrified yell escaping his parched lips. He gasped for breath, eyes wide in horror. Raphael looked around to find himself in his room, laying in bed. He looked down at his hands, half expecting to see them stained red with blood. Instead, they were their normal emerald green shade, scarred, calloused and damp with sweat. Raphael curled into a ball and buried his face in his arms.

He was going insane; there was no other explanation for it. No matter how many times he told himself that it was self-defense, Raphael could never escape the fact that he had killed someone; no matter how much they may have deserved it, Raphael was still a murderer.

He knew his family suspected that something was wrong with him. He didn't eat, he rarely slept, and when he did, he was plagued by nightmares in which he brutally killed one of his brothers in a blind rage.

Splinter had tried countless remedies to try to help his son's troubled mind, but nothing worked.

Raphael closed his eyes, and took a shaking breath before he climbed out of bed. He quietly padded his way out of his room and into Michelangelo's bedroom. He crept up to his brother's bed and looked down at his sleeping form. His heart clenched when it appeared that Michelangelo wasn't breathing. Raphael gently placed a hand on his brother's chest and sighed in relief when he felt a strong heart beat pounding up against his hand. Michelangelo mumbled something in his sleep and turned over on to his side. Raphael stepped back and breathed in deeply, telling himself that his baby brother was alive and well.

Michelangelo moaned in his sleep and opened his eyes when he heard his bedroom door creak. He caught a glimpse of a red mask before it disappeared around the corner. Michelangelo sighed and placed his head against his pillow. What was it going to take for Raphael to forgive himself? Michelangelo closed his eyes and went back to sleep, thinking that Raphael had just had another bad dream and needed some reassurance before going back to sleep. However, he couldn't have been more wrong.

Raphael silently made his way into Donatello's lab, being careful not to wake the sleeping scientist who was slumped over on his keyboard in front of his computer. The red masked turtle went over to the first aid kit and quietly went through its contents. He pulled out what he was looking for, and tucked the small container into his belt, before tip-toeing out of the lab again. Raphael made his way out into the main area of the lair and looked around, memorizing every detail as if he was never going to see it again. When he was satisfied, he walked out of the lair's main door and into the dark sewers beyond.

* * *

A half hour of walking found Raphael coming upon an underground storm water runoff reservoir. He looked down at the many pipes and waterfalls that dominated the massive alcove. He slipped the container out from his belt and looked down at it. A label in Donatello's handwriting read "sedative". Raphael twisted the cap off the small bottle and downed the entire contents without a second thought. He barely registered the sound of water falling behind him as he flung the bottle into the reservoir. He began making his way out onto the nearest pipe.

"Raph?" Leonardo's voice called over the roar of the waterfalls.

Raphael started to feel the effects of the sedative as he continued walking. He began to sway from side to side as footsteps pounded against the pipe uncertainly, but Raphael didn't pay them any notice. His eyes drifted shut and he tipped to the side. He vaguely felt something brush against the tips of his fingers as he fell from the pipe, and then felt no more.

* * *

Leonardo watched in horror as his brother disappeared into the darkness of the reservoir below him. He had been just that one second too late to grab Raphael's hand before his brother fell from the pipe. Before any questions could flood his mind, Leonardo dove off the pipe and into the brown, silt filled and debris choked water below. He looked around for any sign of Raphael, but the murkiness of the water added with the darkness didn't help him much. Leonardo swam around, his arms moving out in front of him, searching desperately for his brother.

After what seemed like an eternity, Leonardo's fingers brushed up against what felt like lifeless, reptilian flesh. The blue masked turtle wrapped his fingers around his brother's wrist and immediately swam for the surface. Leonardo's head broke the surface of the water with a whooshing gasp as he took in a deep breath of air. He wrapped an arm around Raphael's chest and hauled himself and his brother up onto solid ground. As soon as Raphael was secure, Leonardo took out his shell cell and dialed Donatello's number. After the third ring, Donatello finally answered.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" the purple masked ninja grumbled sleepily.

"Grab Mikey and get to the reservoir at Fifth and Main!" Leonardo yelled.

Donatello pulled the shell cell away from his ear and hissed. "Indoor voice, Leo."

"This is no joke, Donny. Raph fell off a pipe and he's not breathing," Leonardo explained his voice containing an edge of terror and panic.

"I'll be right there," Donatello said, instantly going into protective brother and doctor mode.

Leonardo closed the shell cell, dropping it to the ground as he pressed an ear to his brother's motionless chest. There wasn't a heartbeat, no sound of breathing. Leonardo linked his fingers together and began doing chest compressions. He leaned over and blew a couple of breaths into Raphael's slack mouth before repeating the chest compressions again.

Leonardo wasn't sure how much time passed, his entire focus upon trying to get his brother breathing again; his heart pumping once more. Soon, the roar of the Sewer Slider echoed down the tunnel. It came to a stop and Donatello and Michelangelo jumped out, scrambling to where Leonardo was leaning over Raphael's unresponsive body.

"What happened?" Donatello asked as he fell to his knees beside Raphael checking Raphael's vitals and looking for injuries.

"Raph took something," Leonardo started, breathlessly. "At least, I think he did from the way he started swaying. Could have been a sedative maybe?"

Donatello pushed Leonardo out of the way and continued with the chest compressions. Leonardo fell back and panted for breath. He looked over at Michelangelo, who seemed like he was on the verge of a panic attack, then back to Donatello, who was in full doctor mode. Leonardo's eyes drifted down to Raphael's still face. _What had he been thinking?_ Leonardo wiped the water from his face as he tried to figure out what he could possibly do to help. He then remembered a meditation technique that Splinter had taught him. It was extremely dangerous and there was no sure way to know if he would survive it, but there was no other choice.

"Keep working," Leonardo told Donatello and Michelangelo. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

He shifted into a meditative position and closed his eyes trying to calm his thoughts and his rapidly beating heart.

Donatello and Michelangelo glanced at each other before going back to doing CPR. They both knew what Leonardo intended to do, and they both hoped that they wouldn't have to try to revive another brother.

* * *

The sewer gave way to a large stone chamber that was lined with torches. Leonardo looked around, trying to figure out where he was. He turned his head to the right to find two large, oak doors at the end of the chamber. He frowned slightly, but his confusion was broken when he saw the sign for eternity carved into the wood. Leonardo swallowed when he figured out where he was.

"It worked?" he said to no one in particular.

"What the shell are you doing here?" someone asked.

Leonardo turned around to find Raphael standing behind him. He hurried over and threw his arms around his brother's neck. Raphael tensed under the unexpected embrace.

Leonardo pulled away and looked at his brother. "Raph, what were you thinking?" he demanded angrily.

Raphael looked down as if ashamed of his actions, but it quickly turned to guilt. "I can't take it anymore, Leo," he breathed quietly, closing his eyes briefly. "I can't live with it anymore."

Leonardo gripped his brother's shoulders tightly. "Raph, if you're talking about what happened in Inwood Hill Park-"

"It's not just that," Raphael cut in, finally looking up at him. "It's you, Donny and Mikey...I can't...If I killed..."

Leonardo swallowed when he realized what Raphael was trying to say. "Is it the nightmares?" he asked softly.

Raphael nodded. "He won't leave me alone," he whispered. "Alfredson isn't dead. At least not up here." He tapped a finger to his temple. "I'm a killer, Leo. There's no getting around it."

"How many times do I have to say it?" Leonardo snapped in exasperation. "It was-"

"-Self-defense," Raphael finished. "I know. You don't have to keep saying it. But, it doesn't change the fact that I still killed him."

"And killing yourself would accomplish what?" Leonardo asked in frustration.

Raphael looked away. "It's the only way you, Don and Mike can be safe…safe from me."

Leonardo gasped slightly in shock. "What's happened to you, Raph?" he whispered sadly. "There was a time when you would have said suicide was a coward's way out."

Raphael pushed his brother's hands off of his shoulders and headed for the doors at the end of the chamber. Leonardo watched his brother walk away and knew that there was nothing he could do or say to change Raphael's mind. He simply nodded and fought back tears that threatened to fall.

"Okay," Leonardo said.

Raphael stopped walking and turned around. "Okay?" he repeated, voice containing shock and confusion over his brother's acceptance of his decision.

"If this is what you want then...then fine," Leonardo replied. "Whatever you decide, live or die, I'll back you one hundred percent, but just so you know, whichever you decide, I'm coming with you."

Raphael turned and stared at him. "Leo-" he began before Leonardo cut him off.

"But, I'm not the only one you're leaving behind, and the others won't let you go, not without a fight." Leonardo strode towards Raphael and towards the door that would rob him of his own life. He strode past Raphael stopping just short of the double doors, his hands hovering just over the oak to push them open.

"I couldn't protect you, Raph. You had to kill Alfredson because I was too weak to help you. I should have been able to protect this family in the first place, but instead, you were the one that Alfredson tormented, and now, even though he's dead, he's still tormenting you."

"Just cause you're our big brother, doesn't mean you gotta protect us all the time, Leo. You died for a few moments, remember?"

"And now you are trying to finish what Alfredson started!" Leonardo shot back at Raphael. He tried to concentrate, but he could feel himself being pulled back to the world of the living. He knew he needed more time, but time was something neither of them had any longer. "Raph-" Whatever he was going to say was lost as he vanished.

Raphael watched in shock as Leonardo suddenly disappeared. He then turned to face the looming gates of eternity. His next decision would be life or death.

* * *

"Breathe, Leo! Breathe!" Michelangelo yelled frantically, pressing hard on his big brother's chest desperately.

Leonardo took a deep ragged breath before coughing harshly. He slowly opened his eyes to find himself lying on his back beside Raphael; where he had left his brothers a few short minutes ago. Donatello was still desperately doing CPR on a non-responsive Raphael.

Leonardo felt a heavy sadness clench his heart. "Donny, I think it's time to let Raph go," he said softly. Carefully sitting up, he placed his hands upon Donatello's hands, that were performing chest compressions.

Donatello glared up at him his hands stilling for a moment. "Raph never gave up on you," he pointed out stiffly before he started CPR again. "Why should we give up on him?" he asked between breaths.

"Because, Raph made his choice," Leonardo replied wretchedly, pushing himself up.

Donatello shook his head in defiance. "No way," he argued. "Suicide is never a choice. It's the coward's way out."

Michelangelo looked down sadly at his lifeless brother. Was Raphael so far gone that he would decide to take his own life? What would push someone to that point in thinking that there was no other way out but death?

Leonardo pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He had promised he would follow Raphael, wherever he went, but as the seconds ticked down it became harder and harder to keep that promise. He desperately prayed to Raphael, to make the right choice, to come back to them, because if he didn't, Leonardo wouldn't know what he would do if Raphael chose death. Suddenly, there was a sound that Leonardo would never forget as long as he lived; Raphael's sharp intake of breath.

The red masked turtle took a deep breath before falling into a violent coughing fit. The three other brothers stared at him in shock. Donatello quickly turned Raphael over onto his side before Raphael could choke. Leonardo and Michelangelo looked anxiously at their brother as he continued to cough water up from his lungs.

"Are you really back, Raph?" Michelangelo asked in a small voice, rubbing his brother's shell to help the coughing fit.

Raphael slowly stopped coughing and looked up at his brothers. Never before had the colors blue, orange and purple looked so good. Raphael smiled weakly.

"Yeah, Mikey," he wheezed hoarsely. "I'm back to stay."

"Good," Michelangelo said. He gave his brother a gentle whack on the back of the head. "That's for making the most stupid mistake of your life," he scowled disapprovingly.

Raphael winced slightly partially from the hit but mostly from the guilt of what he almost did. "Yeah, I probably deserved that," he agreed. He looked over at Leonardo who was fighting very hard to hold back his tears. "This still doesn't change anything."

"Yeah, it does," Leonardo argued softly. "You just proved that you're not a killer."

Raphael frowned and Donatello and Michelangelo looked from Leonardo to Raphael in a confused questioning manner.

"What do you mean?" Raphael asked.

"If you can't kill yourself, then you can't kill anyone else," Leonardo told him self-assuredly. "The nightmares are wrong."

Raphael thought about his brother's words and allowed them to sink in. A strange sense of relief washed over him and he leaned into Donatello's lap as exhausting fatigue came with the relief. A tired smile spread across Raphael's face as he closed his eyes. He felt one of his brothers gently lift him up into a bridal style position and started to carry him back home. The last thought Raphael had before he drifted off to sleep was it felt good to prove Alfredson wrong, even in death.

* * *

Let be known that that was the most angsty thing I have ever written in my entire life and I never would have been able to pull it off without my fabulous beta-readers Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld. You guys rock!

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


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